The death is always here
clouding our eyes,

listen to the unrest sea
see the sailors long lost love
listen how it drown our breath
see the weak love leave the soul.

The night hunt down our mind
darkening our thoughts,

make a woman see those eyes
let a thought leave the brain
make the voice blow away
let the dove kill the pain.

Show your face now and then
write the peace softly true
show your weakness, show yourself
draw the sea clearly blue.

The morning always appear again
lightning up the darkest heart.

Poetry by Ole Petter
Read 410 times
Written on 2005-11-02 at 00:43

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I love the idea of a dove killing pain, a contradiction. Nice.