Century March

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 16, 2017

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Submitted: July 16, 2017



We burn up. We burn away. You strike the silence , with a mother's face. A tight fold in a lasting hand. A strangle hold in a final stand. What was the need for love? To drink the clouds dry from the heavens above? Did it take your pain Or leave you in a pit of shame? Ether tragic in my corrupted heart. Becomes a thief to the ears that only hear what they want . As the children march on . The leader signals a stranger home.

Black boots calm the vibrant streets. With a rhythym of thunder the courthouse retreats. A temple where we hide. Every last living cause. Of a love that lyed in the shadows of my life. That never was. The gallows are hungry for my treason. A starlight sky in a fallen season. The youth are holding the key to you. That can't be seen in the blind eyes of June. Roll the stone away the guilty pays The leader is here. To drown all the living fear. Of being buried. . In nowhere. A century has yet to roam. The leader signals this stranger home.

March on my beam, March on my means. March on these dragging days that last in torture in a sons torched rays. March on my belief. Of heaven visiting my dreams. March on my misery before I scream.

Neon moon in a jar of clay. My hands are wilted like a rose in May. They feel the sting of a summer bee. That wears a cape of a love set free. March on another throne. March on my heart that's cold . March to the leader with a kiss sent home. Tears evaporate As we hear the laughter of children. Once again we fall in love. .

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