To the Letter.
She holds herself a martyred saint
Calm, clear, aloof
Wingless mortal's freedom dream
Perching on the roof
Furrows line sorrows
Row upon row
Find the eyes that hide the lies
They bleed down wounded cheeks
Stain past and all below.
Holding like an angel
Heaven put a hand on you
Behind flint eyes
There’s no hiding the light
You may live in fog
But you shall dream in rainbows
He who gives the Spark
Gives more than you can burn through.
The bricks are falling into place
Can’t be better than best
Staring back a stranger’s face
You haven’t failed the test
No one survives unbruised
Put your fears to bed.
When the fog clears
You shall dream in rainbows
As sunlight burns the mist
Your eyes sting with tears
Without the grey of rain
You’d never see in colour
Showers rinse the blinds of pain
Till smiles creep and cover.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
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