12 November 2008

Poem for the Blind.5

When the muses are loud, your life is in trouble
We descend from a cloud, all will quiet in rubble
Surrounded by death, surrounded by song
The life lived below, is now taught very wrong

The torn apart ides, pain cretins and art
While patrons of war, aim straight for the heart
Intentions to rest, are met with cold knives
To slow down your dreams, and strengthen our lives

Young power of god, found your eyes can kill
With promise and pain, on top of the hill
I blow through the wood, as I look for her eyes
She rolls down the road, with dark night inside

Darkness and cold, the heart has no sun
A hand to the wind, your army wont run
Space to rearrange, your emptiness kiss
Life might make believe, every moment is bliss

The killer to be, has no time for the rain
He has schedule to keep, and is fast on the plane
There is fortune and fame, and the strong of our time
But a message beneath, is the strength of our mind