deepundergroundpoetry.com
I Fought for the Sun
From dusk the light seeps back in the trees, and winds its way down under
The darkness consumes the dying breeze, and tolls the midnight tundra
The ghost of summer's easy wind, has cast it's mortal breath
From this night on your body's pinned, with frost, and chill, and death
The nimble bat that slept the day, can sense the death of light
But even such ominous creatures as they, won't brave the embittered flight
In a cavernous den they bide their time, watching the foolhardy souls
Who chose not to listen to warning bells chime, for they know of no such tolls
Me among them, and them among me, our passion binds us to our quest
To lay in a land so peacefully free, and catch the sun fall in the west
A more forlorn and soul crushing evening, none has ever endured
With a fragile heart like a butterfly's wing, in the face of a pain never cured
"Press on" says my heart, to the ethereal scarlet dawn of dusk
Letting every man amongst us play his part, with a rage so sharp and brusque.
The mystical art of frost, wont decipher our secret dreams alone
And as every creature lost, in this cold and broken wintry way from home
Searches for the warmth, that the fabled sun of love here once had shone
We'll embrace them in their pity, cutting through the war of winds forever blown.
The darkness consumes the dying breeze, and tolls the midnight tundra
The ghost of summer's easy wind, has cast it's mortal breath
From this night on your body's pinned, with frost, and chill, and death
The nimble bat that slept the day, can sense the death of light
But even such ominous creatures as they, won't brave the embittered flight
In a cavernous den they bide their time, watching the foolhardy souls
Who chose not to listen to warning bells chime, for they know of no such tolls
Me among them, and them among me, our passion binds us to our quest
To lay in a land so peacefully free, and catch the sun fall in the west
A more forlorn and soul crushing evening, none has ever endured
With a fragile heart like a butterfly's wing, in the face of a pain never cured
"Press on" says my heart, to the ethereal scarlet dawn of dusk
Letting every man amongst us play his part, with a rage so sharp and brusque.
The mystical art of frost, wont decipher our secret dreams alone
And as every creature lost, in this cold and broken wintry way from home
Searches for the warmth, that the fabled sun of love here once had shone
We'll embrace them in their pity, cutting through the war of winds forever blown.
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