Caricamento in corso...

The Beloved: The Departed

1.
 
The Words! The Words!
I’ve seen my whole life,
They come with a swirl,
And fly from my sight,
Into horizons, I dare not press to see,
Past Sapphire Ocean and Golden Valley,
To the Pen,
Which bleeds,
Only to tell,
Each page of life,
Within a Ghostly Shell,
 
The roads of the mind,
Though winding, they may be,
Pass through phrases many,
Then vanish, instantly,
I know them well:
Their hearth is my own:
In the Sky, Forest, and River,
Traveling towards home,
Such images:
Contrasting and changing,
Perhaps charming in a way,
Hold me in a heavenly prison,
Until the fading end of day,
 
2.
 
If a man had a curse,
If a man had a blessing,
If a man could live in Peace,
Sad songs wouldn’t need telling,
 
For how to make sense of it,
I pray for, but to no end,
I have no Wet Sword to call!
I have nothing to help defend!
 
And the Words! The Words!
Oh! They cry like hollowed thunder,
Slowly dig my grave eternal,
I smile: when its Finished,
I greet silent slumber…
Altre opere di Robert Thomas Halliwell...



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