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I turn my collar up and turn away
It swirls around my ankles, and I climb
The stairway up into the skies of gray.
But now a sickly rain begins to fall-
Not wet but dry and frighteningly soft
And where it lands my skin begins to crawl
It fills my lungs and makes me choke and cough.
From where has come this cloud of smoke and plague?
From whom ring out the distant cries of pain?
The sun is gone, the lights are few and vague;
The rise of sorrow comes in falling rain.
Why are the young, the blameless, now to die?
Why must they fall like ashes from the sky?
I dream and hope and pray to see the day
When light will once more penetrate this land
When eyes can no more see the color gray
And justice, peace and hope can take a stand
The ashes fall like snowflakes from the clouds
The smoke floats up with endless gravity
I watch this land become a massive shroud
And encompass those at fault for what I see
But they are not the only ones who die
The old and young and innocent die too
My body floats away as I ask why
We never did all that we did not do
When all our souls have said goodbye
Will there still fall soft ashes from the sky
Poetry by Morgan Cellohead
Read 498 times
Written on 2008-12-07 at 19:56
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Ashes from the Sky
The breeze comes black and drenched in tar and grimeI turn my collar up and turn away
It swirls around my ankles, and I climb
The stairway up into the skies of gray.
But now a sickly rain begins to fall-
Not wet but dry and frighteningly soft
And where it lands my skin begins to crawl
It fills my lungs and makes me choke and cough.
From where has come this cloud of smoke and plague?
From whom ring out the distant cries of pain?
The sun is gone, the lights are few and vague;
The rise of sorrow comes in falling rain.
Why are the young, the blameless, now to die?
Why must they fall like ashes from the sky?
I dream and hope and pray to see the day
When light will once more penetrate this land
When eyes can no more see the color gray
And justice, peace and hope can take a stand
The ashes fall like snowflakes from the clouds
The smoke floats up with endless gravity
I watch this land become a massive shroud
And encompass those at fault for what I see
But they are not the only ones who die
The old and young and innocent die too
My body floats away as I ask why
We never did all that we did not do
When all our souls have said goodbye
Will there still fall soft ashes from the sky
Poetry by Morgan Cellohead
Read 498 times
Written on 2008-12-07 at 19:56
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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Sun.Moon.Stars.Rain |
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 by Morgan Cellohead Latest textsDudos@, sospechos@Shardonnay Diary Fear Vorbei Birds Still Fly |
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