Hymn for the Teardrops

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
Surely we can't choose the way we are going to die and we won't have the rights to be the judge of ourselves...

Submitted: September 22, 2012

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Submitted: September 22, 2012

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The River overlooks the dreadful harmonies
His legacy grows: the food - the food of the trees
A wonder beyond it seems like a million seas 
Do they feed them? From a gull to a pigeon? 
Maybe a tone of spirits finding gems in greens...
 
A cliff I see far away, with smog around a bridge
Encloses my dreams: a way out without a spring
Stiff mountains raise behind me, and they sing
A hymn for my gleams, a candle-like light -
Will I have the right to face my internal sins? 
 
Misty candle lights, what sins do thou bring
Upon the dreary sights? For I, have my only wing; 
My last words for the fights I gave for the things
I whisper to thy hearts: the gull, and the pigeon 
Say regards to my region, where I have beliefs.
 
Sky's clearer, though its sepia covers the air
Mountains lose what is their greatest flair 
I begin to crawl, on the way to another stair
The way to a wooden spot, a mystery plot
Where again I start, to shape my exact fair.
 
The River now stops, eternal light has gone
But the gull, and the pigeon, whom I gave life
And wave the ones I love, and will be loved
Will be seen one day, way beyond the Sun
I just had my light, as eternal as teardrops...


© Copyright 2020 Old Sea. All rights reserved.

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