Stoney friends left behind
Congregating, waiting
The burning drape making way
for a velvet night, hesitating
Watery children dodging light
A sorrowful shimmer at the end of sight
Bodies caught in a heist
ravens flopping on the heads
Crying to a feast
Faded green amidst dying shells
They listen to voices, I hear bells
Mother sings them rhymes
I listen to her muted chimes
Stones, awake through the night
Virgin morning in her golden flight
Two numbed feet by the bay
Lost children will find their way..
1 comment:
your existentialism is getting more and more resolved...and you are sayoing fabulous stuff!!! i love it. he said she said shit is the most sensible shit i have come across in this crazy world. To lost children who shall indeed find their way! Cheers!
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