I can hear her weeping
Her sorrowful cry drifting through
My welted sub-conscious
Like Christmas waves leaping against
Emptiness
Running along the shore as if the
Demons who bring the bleak the
Demons who bring the thunder
Chase the ocean angels for their beauty
She weeps as pure as light
Like a song
Such a beautiful song
Should I smile or
Should I cry but
I am for sure floating through her teary relics
It is in but a soft whisper
She beckons for the roses to be
Graciously dropped into her pools
That wept of hymn
One hundred violins race through her brittle facade
As silent as the night
Yet as violent as the wind
She cries as beautiful as an ocean angel
Her tears scream a symphony
I am just a jealous observer
Caught in the lovely song
Dreaming in time to the rhythmic beats
Drowned by each sob
A metaphor compared to scars
Her tears are shooting stars
So beautiful yet
So sad
Copyright 2003 H.Tawater
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/2059/14929 on Monday December 01st, 2008 06:03 PM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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