A cold wind blows o’er the moor
Like a banshee’s dying wail
The fog shrouds the naked trees
Like some spectral wedding veil
He shivers from the chill of sins
Better left in hell to rot alone
Teardrops linger as an afterthought
Like nothing human known
The golden band upon his hand
Weighs too heavy now for his heart
It gives way just like yesterdays
From his trembling hand depart
The ripple echoes cross the lake
Like a silent thunder roar
He doesn’t hear the gun’s reply
His spirit silenced evermore!
very very good!
Regis
this is so well written..too well..it has me all a dither and pondering dire thoughts..oh dear me..
this sure is different from your other pieces..
Vesna
excellent ... very powerful ...
Love,
Susan
Chrissy
Love Tinka
Ch'erie
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
You bring us all back down to earth with a bang..;-)
A sobering thought amidst the hurly burly of 21 st Suburbia !
Peter
Love,
CJ
Susan