sheer pain
Light curtains over the dephtsof a cheerful funeral
where white sheets testify virginity
We stand beside the dark
underneath blonde lashes
esteemed wreaths
along the chalked walls
where golden tapetstries moulder
There sits a mother
There lies a son
There stands a rose
on legs of it's own
By virginity and manhood
the golden thread
completes the pattern of eternity
We whip with fraudulent light
opened graves
smashed bones
Remember the lament of injustice
the sound of play and the smell of blood
small things gathered by a tiny hand
Death will not be death
Life will not be life
The pain cuts our wounds in strips
and here I rest
Nordsaga 2009
Poetry by Nordsaga
Read 789 times
Written on 2009-01-30 at 01:40
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