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Save him From the evils he’s spawned From the claws of the beast Soon to scratch at his door Save the long-lost hero Who fights in his shadow; Betrayed and diminished, Left to fester and rot Sever the rope Tied and taut Wound around his burning throat By his own scheming hands Let him fall…
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I will do what I can With the few rusted nails I have; Boarding up an old life Until the draft dissipates I will do what I can, Undaunted and mad Forever chased by the past I will do what I must Amid the jeers of the wind, Enduring its shrapnel; Flying for me, Deranged…
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Once mighty and boastful words Have been cooked rail-thin; Left searing and babbling Under a tyrannous sun They ramble to a wisp, Withering slowly Into grayed out theories I’ll soon bury in black
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I know nothing of Nightingales; Their sweetened songs That swell to their might In the gathering dark I know nothing of revolt, Of its triumphant banners; How they’re charred and maimed When a nation is born I know nothing at all; Sailing through a pitch black void Without a voice Without a name Without a…
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A pack of rabid dogs Had their fun With my frayed remains When the night was young I’ve awakened, In a crimson haze; My terrified eyes spellbound By the glaring horizon Now the cries of the pack Fill the blood red skies; Wildly snarling And baying, For more
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A phantom rhythm has spawned; Rising somewhere in the land A call to arms The alarm has sounded The alarm has sounded, Awakening the drums And daring the frightened To unsheathed and stride The alarm has sounded , Cry out in your rage In your tireless verse Of jubilation or pain Draw out the mobs,…
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Originally posted on Raja's Insight: Monotone Fogs the day Rendering our limbs Spoiled, dormant and dull ? Our dreams Are grey and faint Worrisome and far Coursing With pitiful despair ? Our truthful roads Now weave Through shades of white To wander Unyielding and frayed ? © William Wright, Jr. Excerpt from the book The…
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I refused to be ensnared To disappear In your web of despair I refused To be driven under; Crashing through your maze Of hysteria and shame I refused Now I too grieve In the span of silence, Before the lasso of a dream
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Hungry and on the run With holes in her jacket With danger on the prowl, Throughout her haunted mind A calling never wavers Its pulse never wanes It remains At the bottom Of her ragged knapsack It is folded and yellowed, Awaiting sunrise When the earth is most fertile, When the all-clear is rung
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I miss the white locks of her hair How they fell around me As a welcoming shroud How the hours took off into a fearsome abyss The higher she rose, Blotting out the sun With her steeple of smoke I miss the seclusion, The breathless ascent, The encircling fog, And the bittersweet decline
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