The thunder rolls
Up in the black ghosts
Of clouds that died.
Silver threads of lightning
Tear the sky.
The angels cry,
Causing the rain to fall.
I'm nothing but
A lonely wanderer
Hopeless and helpless
But free.
I walk along the edge of night,
Chasing dreams around
The rim of the sky.
The wind is cold.
The shadows deep.
It means nothing to me.
Once it struck fear into me...
But now, no longer.
Restlessly pace through the wilds.
Sleep beneath the willows.
I cannot return to
The place from whence I came.
Not at all, for it is impossible.
If I return
Those memories and words
Will shatter my heart
And break my spirit
Once again.
Awake in the gray dawn,
And walk on, walk on.
I find myself on the beach
Moving through the ashen sand.
And I hear the piercing calls
From the distant shore.
I dread those banshee cries
More than anything I have ever known.
Stumble onwards, always wandering.
Trying to escape
That enemy which I cannot name.
Stagger, fall, cut hand on sharp stone.
Crimson stains the pale sand.
I stare blankly.
Stand up.
And walk on, walk on.
No rest.
If I rest, that enemy will catch me.
Walk on.
Walk on.
Of clouds that died.
Silver threads of lightning
Tear the sky.
The angels cry,
Causing the rain to fall.
I'm nothing but
A lonely wanderer
Hopeless and helpless
But free.
I walk along the edge of night,
Chasing dreams around
The rim of the sky.
The wind is cold.
The shadows deep.
It means nothing to me.
Once it struck fear into me...
But now, no longer.
Restlessly pace through the wilds.
Sleep beneath the willows.
I cannot return to
The place from whence I came.
Not at all, for it is impossible.
If I return
Those memories and words
Will shatter my heart
And break my spirit
Once again.
Awake in the gray dawn,
And walk on, walk on.
I find myself on the beach
Moving through the ashen sand.
And I hear the piercing calls
From the distant shore.
I dread those banshee cries
More than anything I have ever known.
Stumble onwards, always wandering.
Trying to escape
That enemy which I cannot name.
Stagger, fall, cut hand on sharp stone.
Crimson stains the pale sand.
I stare blankly.
Stand up.
And walk on, walk on.
No rest.
If I rest, that enemy will catch me.
Walk on.
Walk on.
This is great! Are you going to be entering this for the poetry compilation? You should. *nod*
ReplyDeleteAnd here I am being lame again and not even realizing you posted this comment until a week later. :roll:
DeleteAs you can see, yes, I did. And I would have done it if you hadn't told me I should, so thanks. ^_^