Wings Of Death
The water in dark and lonely eyes
dries them up white and blind,
The love in wounded hearts
tears up the hate intertwined,
The shadowed grief,
in the prison of joy, confined,
The pain of freedom
only those cold cages can remind.
The dark shackles of hope,
to fleeting love, they bind,
The cold, steel bars
of ephemeral happiness, so unkind,
The dungeons of infatuation
keep unknown emotions defined ,
The scars of agony and misery
will always remain locked behind.
The wailing voices of ecstasy,
mask the true echoes of torment,
The blaring sounds of passion
hide the real black noise of lament,
The pained cries of comfort drown
the bleeding wounds of being spent,
The false whispers of innocence,
louder than the screams of the repentant.
The fragrance of fictitious beauty
overpowers pain’s true old rancid scent,
The aroma of fake euphoric laughter
removes life’s putrid smell of ferment,
The incense of make-believe glee,
removes traces of of the soul’s resentment,
The perfume of a liar’s love
wipes away the bitter cry of the heart’s discontent.
The dimmed light of cold, stale love
rising from darkening grief’s frail tide,
The siren’s luring song of lust
carried to the altar where even pain cried,
The darkness of the night imprison
the black stars, their destiny denied,
The red dawn conceals the graying dusk,
ephemeral twilight their thin divide.
The endless beach of black sands,
where the last waves break and hide,
The plentiful fields of sentiments
that eclipse the flower of regret inside,
The fire of hope that burns off the
enclosing shadows of sorrow cast aside,
The streams of time fill up the barren sea
of life, as its sickness will subside.
The smile on the lips of the angel
as her eyes conceal the punishing pain,
The laughter of the clown
that hide his tears of desperation and complain,
The orchestra of the maestro
that veils the song of despair and bane,
The dance of the actress cloaks the blood
of her scars and hurts that stain.
The drizzle of false caring, falling faster
than depression’s torrential rain,
The breeze of transient love blowing harder
than gushing gales of disdain,
The smoldering embers of elation hotter
than the raging inferno of the insane,
The barren lands of delirium more fertile
than the lush fields of hate and restrain.
The gates of heaven will open to show
the hate inside, as the love outside will freeze,
The gardens of paradise parched with joy,
as the clouds of pain promise a moist breeze,
The broken cold bones in nirvana, look to misery
for comfort from hope’s fatal disease,
The entire Elysium bends in submission,
at the altar of despair, on bloodied knees.
The light of anguish fills the starlit night sky
as the entire world looks up and sees,
The distress fills every crater in every soul
as relentless flow of the river of time will cease,
The weary hearts tired of vaporous love search
for the brook of punishment among the black trees,
The desperation of a banal life’s guilt,
under the wings of death, is finally put to ease.