...those lost in foreign lands....
nights flow again, all empty.
Stars float indifferently
past an ambivalent moon.
Who cries to the silence?
Those lost in foreign lands,
who lie unmarked in desert sand or seas
cheated of life, the flimsy words
they died for now are changed,
and all the winds cry out for justice.
When silence strikes at souls
combustion grows,
until a 'blue' is unavoidable,
not of this world,
no smoke, no flame,
only lost voices which the winds
kindle and rekindle...
Poetry by Scharlie Meeuws
Read 917 times
Written on 2008-04-18 at 23:07
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Who cries to the silence?
Down the river of discarded daysnights flow again, all empty.
Stars float indifferently
past an ambivalent moon.
Who cries to the silence?
Those lost in foreign lands,
who lie unmarked in desert sand or seas
cheated of life, the flimsy words
they died for now are changed,
and all the winds cry out for justice.
When silence strikes at souls
combustion grows,
until a 'blue' is unavoidable,
not of this world,
no smoke, no flame,
only lost voices which the winds
kindle and rekindle...
Poetry by Scharlie Meeuws
Read 917 times
Written on 2008-04-18 at 23:07
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
Kathy Lockhart |
|
lastromantichero |
|
normalil |
