Countess
11-14-2005, 06:44 PM
Snow :angel:
Snow...is a most unpredictable thing
deep and desolate upon the spring vine,
unexpected, it blankets the smallest green
until all is winter and white
And beauty, monotone with ice
crunches loudly beneath my feet,
in evening’s sweet silence
not a peep—from bird, from spring,
all is frozen, asleep,
with the purity of Christ.
A mocking parody of death it is, :sick:
with the knell of the church bell
all their faces smiling sweetly
as the ball falls-
and falling-
comes crashing to the ground.
The throng gushes forward
embracing its newfound friend,
in 2001 all hopes manifested
all dreams full and bursting
with possibilities....
unrecognized.
As the gasping breath
of yesteryear falls silent,
I think to myself how quickly we forget
to love those who need it and
to forgive without deserve
those who don’t.
Along the sidestreets
in dark alleyways
I hear a baby wailing
as screams of sirens
pierce the naked darkness
Midnight visitors
scury back into their homes
rank with the smell of the kill,
A flicker of light grandly parades
before the night’s undead,
giving hope to an old man
--sitting Indian style--
with an open can of dog food.
Nonetheless, still oppressed
by the demon monsters within,
the looking glass shatters and fragments
into unrecognizable features,
still sharp as a razor blade
and rich with your blood
How long shall you be crucified my friend?
How long, and to what end?
Your captors nailed your hands and feet,
pierced your insides with lies
that you seem to believe
We are all willing participants
in our own misery…
Snow...is a most unpredictable thing
deep and desolate upon the spring vine,
unexpected, it blankets the smallest green
until all is winter and white
And beauty, monotone with ice
crunches loudly beneath my feet,
in evening’s sweet silence
not a peep—from bird, from spring,
all is frozen, asleep,
with the purity of Christ.
A mocking parody of death it is, :sick:
with the knell of the church bell
all their faces smiling sweetly
as the ball falls-
and falling-
comes crashing to the ground.
The throng gushes forward
embracing its newfound friend,
in 2001 all hopes manifested
all dreams full and bursting
with possibilities....
unrecognized.
As the gasping breath
of yesteryear falls silent,
I think to myself how quickly we forget
to love those who need it and
to forgive without deserve
those who don’t.
Along the sidestreets
in dark alleyways
I hear a baby wailing
as screams of sirens
pierce the naked darkness
Midnight visitors
scury back into their homes
rank with the smell of the kill,
A flicker of light grandly parades
before the night’s undead,
giving hope to an old man
--sitting Indian style--
with an open can of dog food.
Nonetheless, still oppressed
by the demon monsters within,
the looking glass shatters and fragments
into unrecognizable features,
still sharp as a razor blade
and rich with your blood
How long shall you be crucified my friend?
How long, and to what end?
Your captors nailed your hands and feet,
pierced your insides with lies
that you seem to believe
We are all willing participants
in our own misery…