Imman (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} imman) wrote,@ 2009-05-18 19:45:00 |
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the penitent kneels
on stone, shattered
crumbling under weight
of sins real and forgotten
blood dripping from lips
drip on the cross of wooden
beads intertwined with fingers
of flesh, and dirt; clawing at
the unshakeable earth.
torn, tattered flapping dust
in the mourning wind
a trickle, a drop of salt
traversing barren skin
clearing a path
this herald of tears
this prophet of despair
this, and then, a piercing wail
cuts a swathe through
the silence of insanity
the last plea for salvation
before heaven's gates
have closed, leaving behind
the fallen.
the monument of bones
have been picked clean
by vultures;
yet
this remains - the wooden cross
of faith misplaced,
hidden beneath
the endless sands of regret.
on stone, shattered
crumbling under weight
of sins real and forgotten
blood dripping from lips
drip on the cross of wooden
beads intertwined with fingers
of flesh, and dirt; clawing at
the unshakeable earth.
torn, tattered flapping dust
in the mourning wind
a trickle, a drop of salt
traversing barren skin
clearing a path
this herald of tears
this prophet of despair
this, and then, a piercing wail
cuts a swathe through
the silence of insanity
the last plea for salvation
before heaven's gates
have closed, leaving behind
the fallen.
the monument of bones
have been picked clean
by vultures;
yet
this remains - the wooden cross
of faith misplaced,
hidden beneath
the endless sands of regret.
