say the good and the great
they did all that they could they’ll light up their landmarks in the colours of blood that is all too forgotten ’til the next fallen calls given their words and deeds meant nothing at all
pray not to the skies
for there is but blood and fire the doves have fallen
what redeeming hope have we
when measured is our blasphemy more by sainted words to heed than on the mercy of our deeds
in the ancient dark
a sacrifice burned to ash floating to heaven
from the ancient dark
the dawning came with a prayer declared to the stars
the dark is no more
yet this time sets forth shadows blacker than its night
I close my eyes
and in my thoughts I ink a cursive unwritten verse upon your nakedness poetry for us alone words that will only let our fingers trace, whilst reading of each other’s touch.
I martial my dreams
to sail upon meagre words as ships in bottles
let us dance barefoot
making love in just our thoughts as Aznavour sings
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February 26, 2022 3 Comments
what is the morning?
the music of Debussy and your waking smile
the more to glance on mankind’s soul
we chance upon a truth untold so flagrant we refuse to see that madness outweighs sanity.
she pleads a passion
her memory still weeping for humanity