THE RESURRECTION

He placed his hand upon his chest
Where it lay,beating,for one--
The world,the light,his children.
As dusk approached,
He closed his eyes
Hid His crippled self behind the trees--
Anxiously waiting for death to arrive.
As Night placed her ugly hands upon Him,
His crippled self--shoved into mortality.
Her hands,they pierced through His bosom,
Ripped out the heart that could beat for none.
The skies, they marked the death of the Angel,
Dusk-the skies,blue,now bleeding-red
He was wrapped in the blood stained skies
The Sun, only to be reborn,
In the dark of the Night.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Amazing use of thoughts leading to strong ending.
"The Sun, only to be reborn,
In the dark of the Night."
Life will show us what we truly need if we pay attention. Thank you Shweta for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[sinNsincerity]

Quite dark, I dig thi6...