deepundergroundpoetry.com
Morningstar: Tattered Lace Shrouds Graceless Faith
Can a vile wretch such as I
Dare to hope when all is bleak
From shore to shore
To the jagged peaks
When all seems lost
Just to see one spark
But what, I ask, is the cost?
I have seen the passing of time
From Helen of Troy to vampire lovers
To the houses of lordly thieves
Murdering sisters and brothers
And heard the desires of Eve
But I have not seen
...you...
In the lost or hidden scriptures
To the slowly fading pictures
You vanish in the shadow embrace
An angel in her tattered lace
What sunshine has dared to show
Its face in soulless broken windows
Setting this empty place to glow
Just to be consumed by shadows
There is no sign of
...you...
Or was I just to blind to see
Past the packaged splendors of Miss Pandora
Let loose on this empty world
Free the succubi of Gomorrah
And seen the eyes beyond the door
But I have not heard
...you...
Rambling on those full moon nights
I’m remembering my own plight
In the mist of gray memories
We carved our names in dying trees
Once we laid in secret groves
On churning waters and undertows
From highest peaks to all time lows
Where two hearts embraced, overflow
Still I dream about
...you...
Dare to hope when all is bleak
From shore to shore
To the jagged peaks
When all seems lost
Just to see one spark
But what, I ask, is the cost?
I have seen the passing of time
From Helen of Troy to vampire lovers
To the houses of lordly thieves
Murdering sisters and brothers
And heard the desires of Eve
But I have not seen
...you...
In the lost or hidden scriptures
To the slowly fading pictures
You vanish in the shadow embrace
An angel in her tattered lace
What sunshine has dared to show
Its face in soulless broken windows
Setting this empty place to glow
Just to be consumed by shadows
There is no sign of
...you...
Or was I just to blind to see
Past the packaged splendors of Miss Pandora
Let loose on this empty world
Free the succubi of Gomorrah
And seen the eyes beyond the door
But I have not heard
...you...
Rambling on those full moon nights
I’m remembering my own plight
In the mist of gray memories
We carved our names in dying trees
Once we laid in secret groves
On churning waters and undertows
From highest peaks to all time lows
Where two hearts embraced, overflow
Still I dream about
...you...
Published 21st Jun 2014
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
wow man
i can't even begin to intelligently critique here..
it's jus fn perfect and hits home all the way through...
"Can a vile wretch such as I
Dare to hope when all is bleak"
you had my attention from the jump and stayed consistent right to a hella closer...
fn fantastic man...fo real.........
i can't even begin to intelligently critique here..
it's jus fn perfect and hits home all the way through...
"Can a vile wretch such as I
Dare to hope when all is bleak"
you had my attention from the jump and stayed consistent right to a hella closer...
fn fantastic man...fo real.........
8th Sep 2014 3:55pm
