The lady the lost and the angels
She rode the night on a tangled high her tentacles
Stretching far and wide her temper dark as a
Moon-less barren sky on a journey into the psyche
of an unsuspecting life
And with the waters of a tempest sea broke the
Levees of this crescent city as winds of rage
Whistle songs of terrors glee
As death knocks on the doors of those awash in
Misery life as it were is spent in the clutches of
this unforgiving agony
Now lost in a quandary of where to go they flee
The only home they ever did know their stories
Of life left scattered in the aftermath of this lady's
deadly show
Left abandon by apathy to sink in the clutches of
Anarchy their cries of suffering go unheard by those
Content in their disconnect who dwell in a distant
Capital world
And from a world of swelling anger that saw the
Bondage of somber hearts Angels came on wings of hope
to show an opened welcome path of life beyond this
villain's wrath
Now they follow the moon this night to a brighter
Day's first light and as they walk the asphalt tile
the unveiled sign says Angel Street a place where
new beginnings meet
And sadden faces smile anew as tears of pain turn
Cries of joy and gratitude blooms in the hearts
of the lost of New Orleans
Earl S. Jackson
Sept 2006
Copyright © 2006 Earl S. Jackson, all rights reserved.
Poetry by Earl Jackson
Read 956 times
Written on 2007-07-07 at 01:29
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