27 August 2009

A poem for the blind - 8

awaking thought of lovers naught
as boring as can get
a fireside of breaking tide
a sand that isn't wet
as winter night with dying light
the lightning on the ground
a summer sea beneath the tree
the breaking of the sound
a spinning world, its stones are hurled
the evils taking root
mirror glass burns in an urn
the hourglass of soot
a frozen throne chills to the bone
a fortune from the air
a message from the kingdom come
a blindness from a glare
a training course without a horse
the watch is not the same
because of risks from basilisks
has man become the game
and without class the sand-trap pass
and rivers in the brain
the elder wrath and victims path
or sitting in the rain
so reconcile the infantile
and cherish them in scores
the slow to sit and counterfeit
and push them through the doors
echoing bell falls down a well
fire chasing after-
following hell and towered swell
and all the laughing lies
the devil's pride the light outside
above the loving skies
of all that tried to run and hide
the ice kingdom that dies