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Just One Soul

I was raised in Fremtonville
A ghost town with no love or will
Population: just one soul
Kites in dire need of fixing
Orchids grow beneath the coal
Leaps of faith could paralyze

Power trips and surging shivers
Bathing in the waving wivers
Laugh while I climb the tower
Drowning in my clearer creedence
Titanic beetles forged from power
Gnaw the cables empty, dry

In the rising fist of rain
The lights had dragged a rotting train
Then dropped it at the station near
No whistle blew, no coal had burned
The orchids screamed into my ear
Then whispered straight into my eye

Under the blood and iron layer
The train had brought a record player
Rearing countless discs of sound
But no one strong enough to lift
The heavy boxes from the ground
And yet, just one, and there it lie

When I woke up in the yard
Surrounded by the chapel guard
The dim was set, the needle spin
So spun the hole of solid dark
I waited for it to come in
But nothing came. I don't know why.

Poetry by weirdzarun
Read 448 times
Written on 2007-04-28 at 02:04