The faceless heads
Bow just slightly
They glimmer in
The moonlight nightly
Their slender shape
And flowing hair
Beside the old church
Standing there.
An angels whisper
High above
Dreams its dreams
Where idols stood
Its 6 am
Through windows glass
An Autumn chill
Thoughts to amass.
An empty chair
Reflects no name
Its mere presence
On canvas framed
To hang upon
The wall of life
The faceless heads
Of sacrifice.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: October 14th, 2026 01:43
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Offline)
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