Anon22
03-10-2006, 03:21 AM
Boy am I sleepy... I just stayed up writing this... :yawn: perhaps I might've done a better job if I had worked on it tomorrow (or later on today) anyhow, here it is, Hope. Actually... just so you guys would know... I for no reason whatsover decided to make each verse be 8 syllables long (except for the very last line)... don't know why... just chose to do so, so it probably could've been better (especially at the later parts where I started to grow tired). :yawn:
Hope:
The clouds are up, the sun is out
The wind is blowing soft - no doubt
The flowers bloom, the trees are green
The air - so nice, so cool, so clean.
The shadows moving playfully,
Happiness, joy, no agony,
And slowly time keeps moving on,
the sunlight fading - nearly dawn.
White to silver the clouds become,
The wind so softly starts to hum.
The kids returning to their home,
That tiny house in which they roam,
Sleeping, they shall sleep through thunder,
Sleeping, sleeping, sweet deep slumber
They shall never hear the thunder.
That loud, awful, restless drummer.
The wind and clouds, the sun, surround
A raindrop finally meets the ground,
A raindrop hitting ground with grief.
Look up to see the storm's not brief.
To be locked out, once more - again,
I worry like a frantic hen,
Rapidly pacing back and forth,
Across the garden, south to north.
A second raindrop hits the earth,
then more, to which it shall give birth.
Light dispelled from the very sky,
and my throat, with fear, feeling dry.
The cruel drummer is getting near,
every step shall cut my ear,
every drop shall cut my face,
a blow of air, a blast to space.
My muscles feeling sore and weak,
as a fake tear rolls down my cheek.
I think and think and think some more
It was a great day, I was sure
And slowly I think further back,
To when everything wasn't black,
Reviewing through my memory,
My eyes covered with reverie.
"The clouds are up, the sun is out
The wind is blowing soft - no doubt
The flowers bloom, the trees are green
The air - so nice, so cool, so clean.
The shadows moving playfully,
Happiness, joy, no agony,
And slowly time keeps moving on,
the sunlight fading - nearly dawn."
Peace never truly sticks around
It stays and then it leaves the ground.
Though torture works the same way too,
The storm will leave and peace renew
That light at the end of the storm,
its small, petite, diamond-like form,
that shining ray of hope.
Hope:
The clouds are up, the sun is out
The wind is blowing soft - no doubt
The flowers bloom, the trees are green
The air - so nice, so cool, so clean.
The shadows moving playfully,
Happiness, joy, no agony,
And slowly time keeps moving on,
the sunlight fading - nearly dawn.
White to silver the clouds become,
The wind so softly starts to hum.
The kids returning to their home,
That tiny house in which they roam,
Sleeping, they shall sleep through thunder,
Sleeping, sleeping, sweet deep slumber
They shall never hear the thunder.
That loud, awful, restless drummer.
The wind and clouds, the sun, surround
A raindrop finally meets the ground,
A raindrop hitting ground with grief.
Look up to see the storm's not brief.
To be locked out, once more - again,
I worry like a frantic hen,
Rapidly pacing back and forth,
Across the garden, south to north.
A second raindrop hits the earth,
then more, to which it shall give birth.
Light dispelled from the very sky,
and my throat, with fear, feeling dry.
The cruel drummer is getting near,
every step shall cut my ear,
every drop shall cut my face,
a blow of air, a blast to space.
My muscles feeling sore and weak,
as a fake tear rolls down my cheek.
I think and think and think some more
It was a great day, I was sure
And slowly I think further back,
To when everything wasn't black,
Reviewing through my memory,
My eyes covered with reverie.
"The clouds are up, the sun is out
The wind is blowing soft - no doubt
The flowers bloom, the trees are green
The air - so nice, so cool, so clean.
The shadows moving playfully,
Happiness, joy, no agony,
And slowly time keeps moving on,
the sunlight fading - nearly dawn."
Peace never truly sticks around
It stays and then it leaves the ground.
Though torture works the same way too,
The storm will leave and peace renew
That light at the end of the storm,
its small, petite, diamond-like form,
that shining ray of hope.