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Subject: Blood Tipped Thorns | |
Author: Bill "The Songman" |
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Date Posted: 06:26:27 11/28/07 Wed Blood Tipped Thorns Last night's fires perform a spiraled death dance, Slowly falling in upon themselves. Eating their fuel, Extinguishing their life. Now, only smoke remains. Silently choking the morning light. A heavy pall of death lay in the air. Forlorn, Almost weary of life... I trudge woefully out from the valley. Today's remorse born in yesterday's war. Behind lay a clearing strewn with dead roses. Embraced by blood tipped thorns. Death's odors stir in silence, As generals rejoice, a victor's feast. Mothers' lament, crying defiant. When will we know peace? How many must die, too save how many lives? A paradox of human design. An ambiguous mist rises tonight. Do the dead taste the battle's defeat? I scratch and crawl to the mountain top. Fall to my knees and pray. Please dear Lord, hear my heartfelt words, As my tears drip from blood tipped thorns. Bill [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |
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