'til nine.

Long wind, comes rolling in
from a place where the dead learn to fly,
an angel speaks
when you don’t try to listen
and the message could only make you cry
can only make you cry

Don’t forget to ask her for when,
the knight turns from castle,
will the demons lay down and die?
and will you repent,
as the generous wear leather,
and life becomes a magical spy.

Nowhere will we
smile and be free
the judgment is as thick as the night,
and the damsel in waiting
is slowly contemplating
a ten fold in mass suicide.

Hopeless window opens a chance,
and distance romances the eye,
and the angel knows,
as she somehow unfolds
the darkness, the mystery, the night

But god’s creature willing,
is somehow the key
in this journey we play with knife,
so don’t tell the master,
of our unplanned disaster
it’s only a quarter 'til nine…

Reviews

[Chloe..Across the Unive..]

wow that leaves me speechless the last verse is really good.. this is an excellent poem i get my meaning from it which may not be what you are saying .. i enjoyed this .. fine writing
Chloe