Just a poem...enjoy |
Gothic Night Trees swing and moan to the rising wind And even corpse’s pay for their inborn sin A low fringe of melancholy rocks Where the moor and the river discreetly lock The chiming clock strikes another night hour But sleep from my mind incessantly cowers One mustn’t strain to hear the ivy rustling on the wall And the solemn oak grows wide but never tall The threatening scarecrow stands high on the hill Invoking the ghosts of this plain to anger still Here to grunts of the netherworld your ears will thrill Let the ink of spirits fill your weary quill The sorrow inducing notes played by the wind Makes the moon light grow a shade more dim Black rain proudly patters on my window pane But I hear no sound to keep me sane An eerie stain glass window tells of tales Of forgotten heroes and boats that would sail Too far for anyone to knowledgeably say Whether or not the same boatmen came back this way The ripples of the river tell the years of the dead within its bed And the lapping waves weep for blue gone red Here I stand on the cliff of my life Deciding to jump into the abyss called night Illusive death, illusive pain Does the waning sun feel its oppressive strain? Not a sound from the wind of the west Does the regal eagle forget its young in its nest? The gate to your mind is through the eyes But is bolted by pain and misanthropic lies Perhaps my own choices had these chains created And my own fear been my sedative Of freedom does my third eye daily dream And just the notion of abandon bursts my heart at its seams Here I reach out for the key to know Where the hell our hope did go But now I ceremoniously return the seal Content to let sorrow and time my wounds heal So now, sleep this ghastly night away Bury your dead in graves of yesterday Fear not the bats or the poison moth Live out this night, this night of the Goths |