Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Sorrow

The sweet smell of a great sorrow lies over the land
Plumes of smoke rise and merge into the leaden sky:
A man lies and dreams of green fields and rivers,
But awakes to a morning with no reason for waking

He's haunted by the memory of a lost paradise
In his youth or a dream, he can't be precise
He's chained forever to a world that's departed
It's not enough, it's not enough

His blood has frozen & curdled with fright
His knees have trembled & given way in the night
His hand has weakened at the moment of truth
His step has faltered

One world, one soul
Time pass, the river rolls



2 comments:

  1. Okay y'all. Cry and sob, get it out, then get the hell busy doing what you need to be doing. Remember, WE aren't the whiners, the fsa that elected the commander in chief of the fsa are the whiners. We're Americans. Act like it.

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