Alone with the sands of time,
At the top of this wooden mountain
Awaiting for broken clocks to chime
We wash away the blood of kin.
The clouds of power form
Over the basset of the mind
Resting the reckless storm
Insight dies as life becomes blind.
With a candle flicker
And the stars ignite
We bury our vicar
Next to his despite.
He sits next to angels' kin
Temptation's embrace holds
As these morbid desires sin
And the scarred truth unfolds.
"At the top of any kingdom the stress of life will attempt to drown you leaving ignorance to be blissful boat which allows you to stay afloat." - Author's note 19
Excellent work! Loved it!
ReplyDeleteWow. Don't even know what to say. It leaves a kind of intellectual and emotional residue in my mind that haunts me like a beautiful fragrance whose origins are just on the fringe of my recollection.
ReplyDeleteThank you both for your kind words. I wanted to try a differnt style of writing and was quite happy with how it turned out. Thank you again! :)
ReplyDelete