Dark Poetry #4 |
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The Fallen Men part one |
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Russell8624 Member
since 2006-11-28
Posts 99Minnesota |
I hope you don't mind my posting this poem in sections. This is the Arid Land. This is the Dead Land. Alas! There are no Gardens here, in this Cactus Land, Only the wilted vines of valor Forsaken by the wind. Pride without shelter, shame without pity, empty thoughts. Desolate beings; Here we are staked In our dry place, whispering together in rasped voices. In a line we are crucified, parched by our fault, deformed by our chaos. Our decayed pieces have fallen from our bodies, and here we are paralyzed, unable to think with a head full of straw. Some glance with eyes of diamond, Or windows to the soul that seek affliction. Yet those who have seen us with their own eyes, remember us not as the Tortured Men, But only as the Stuffed Men, the Hated Men. Dreams that dance above our trapped souls, Are the dreams of bitter envy. Yet between the reaching of our arms, And the grasping of our hands, The shadow falls before us. We are condemned to the Eternal Midnight, Without cool breeze or glimmering sky. We are as wind in dry grass to this barren field, Empty and meaningless voices. Spasms to a Saint. |
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© Copyright 2006 Russell - All Rights Reserved | |||
arthur Senior Member
since 2001-08-14
Posts 678england |
it caused me to think souls lost but i do not understand arthur lucifer before the sunrise |
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