A hymn for the deathless,
a song for the stone,
a wavering whisper for life.
A piece of the puzzle that falls on deaf ears,
a balancing act on the knife.
Relentless the labyrinth,
a prison unmoored,
the riddle gifts light though it burns.
We sleep in rotation,
keep passion alive,
agony carried in turns.
A hymn for the lifeless,
a song for the swamp,
a wavering whisper for life.
A resignation to a culture of fear,
a headlong dive into strife.
Crumbled the maze,
bottled the struggle,
immolation turns soul into ash.
No rest for the wicked,
the bridge still burns,
agony's itch like a rash.
A hymn for the deathless,
a song for the stone,
a wavering whisper no more.
We choir of story,
slaves of the song,
seekers of pain in the lore.
- Author: Quemis ( Offline)
- Published: August 25th, 2017 09:17
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 34
Comments2
True about the resignation to a culture of fear. You have grasped human nature so well Psentinel. You are very wise.
I don't feel wise. Just terrified, small and broken.
Thanks though.
Spectacular! The language, the message, all fantastic!
thank you, very much.
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