When the soul burns,
tears are acids that,
flames the effigies of love.
And when you know the only medicine is,
Death.
It's a game of dance on Mars' fires.
It'sa rhapsody of lateral thought.
tears are acids that,
flames the effigies of love.
And when you know the only medicine is,
Death.
It's a game of dance on Mars' fires.
It'sa rhapsody of lateral thought.
***
The ancient eagle flew from miles away,
suffered bruises in the brutal rainforests,
burns over the magical sand,
of the hot desert.
And was numbed in the evil Siberian cold.
The bird has an unquenched throat,
longing for the polluted rain.
***
The distant howling,
echoes in the hollow interiors of the black fores,
that hit hard in it's lost senses.
The dead vulture,
perches atop the dead,broken tree,
feasting in the alive langur,
in some land,
a morbid land.
The voices that spoke tyranny,
continue to yell through echoes.
***
The fingers that swayed the cradle,
now picks up the broken cradle,
and cries at the broken baby.
The horrific lullaby that was once sung,
now rekindles a new desire.
To sleep again.
The illuminated eyes,
speak of a dark inside.
Led Zeppelin is sung,so is Maiden.
It's an experience,
It's a teacher.
Pain is what makes a person at times.
***
Pain is when the infant cries,
whilst the mother earns money and pleasure.
Pain is also when the baby dies.
Pain is your heat,
when it bleeds.
Pain is more when it is stiched.
Pain was also when Chaplin wore Hitler's moustache.
Pain is when Holocaust haunts
Pain is when the reddest of blood is spilled by,
the scarlet sarcasm.
Pain is when you read these lines.
***
The lullaby was the last one,
he ever heard.
The greatest pain.
The ancient eagle flew from miles away,
suffered bruises in the brutal rainforests,
burns over the magical sand,
of the hot desert.
And was numbed in the evil Siberian cold.
The bird has an unquenched throat,
longing for the polluted rain.
***
The distant howling,
echoes in the hollow interiors of the black fores,
that hit hard in it's lost senses.
The dead vulture,
perches atop the dead,broken tree,
feasting in the alive langur,
in some land,
a morbid land.
The voices that spoke tyranny,
continue to yell through echoes.
***
The fingers that swayed the cradle,
now picks up the broken cradle,
and cries at the broken baby.
The horrific lullaby that was once sung,
now rekindles a new desire.
To sleep again.
The illuminated eyes,
speak of a dark inside.
Led Zeppelin is sung,so is Maiden.
It's an experience,
It's a teacher.
Pain is what makes a person at times.
***
Pain is when the infant cries,
whilst the mother earns money and pleasure.
Pain is also when the baby dies.
Pain is your heat,
when it bleeds.
Pain is more when it is stiched.
Pain was also when Chaplin wore Hitler's moustache.
Pain is when Holocaust haunts
Pain is when the reddest of blood is spilled by,
the scarlet sarcasm.
Pain is when you read these lines.
***
The lullaby was the last one,
he ever heard.
The greatest pain.
(The name of those two metal heads is a reference to Led Zep's Babe I'm Gonna Leave You and Maiden's Dance of Death)
2 comments:
it personified the pain that you feel,
but cant touch.
a pain you know of,
but cant explain
a pain so feirce
you go insane
the unknown pain
that clutches your heart
and burns in your soul..
pain, works for you.
Amrita
[7.45 pm, 30th Dec,2007]
Ah! I see a second poet in my blog.
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