Fallen are the castles,those ruins left behind in time,where are the bards and minstrels but beneath the walls of rubble and loneliness is the last voice that sings in the quiet of desolation...
Monday, December 28, 2009
The Throne Upon The Hill
Forgotten winters lay still as the silence of nothing,
The emptiness no ocean would fill beyond greatness,
As the times of unsung beauty has come to sing,
Upon this hill shall the world be at rest.
Like a thrill that flutters its wings to an anxious heart,
The bellowing waves that slap the ground with no tender touch,
While neither stone nor sand will lead the steep road,
The path so crudely hewn is all that remains of my faith.
As a shattered rainbow crawls through the winding thicket,
Moving voices that speak softly in my soul,
If never a word were whispered to the deaf sky,
This high wind untamed should be so bold.
Forgive this illusion that should play upon my spine,
As mine eyes must deceive of the throne I longed to see still;
Awake awake cried heaven for dreams become the pleasure of time,
And I say this to the world,may a dream be lost but may we meet upon this hill.