I was not completely satisfied, yet still posted (never post when exhausted)...still not what I completely want but here is a closer version of what I was going for. Is anything in the attempted arts ever truly finished though?
How dim the light that glows this world
Sanctuaried hearts of tarnished gold
Now bled dry, the silver lined concordance
The shredded remnant of tattered torment,
Rests upon my battle worn frame
Garments lacking praise, as the worn man who wears them
Solemn justice for an ash-laden soul
The ire of age that night befell knight
Pitted armor, time rusted mettle
Fires flickered dance within a paper-skin skeleton
Bless this ice-cold heart-breath, exhalation
A greater man, the mirrored erect
Such precipiced languish, the pounding resonance
Blood deafens my every thought
Shattered, scattered amongst the rubble
Find me, for I have been stolen
The dim light still reveals the cloak I wear
May the iron shine once again
A shimmer glints soft reflection
Across the tear pooled abyss
-j.g.smith (09/13/07)
No comments:
Post a Comment