Black, Winter Statues

Like cold ice on window fronts 
The trees hang their children's spines 
 
They await there in the icy snow 
Staring back at you with haunting grim 
 
They are darkened statues from years ago 
Being brought down like fallen soldiers 
 
Victims of abuse from heathen’s torture 
Silenced from our own callus obstruction 
 
We seek comfort from a distance away 
Like haunting faces we cannot face 
 
For these landmarks are nature’s tombs 
Rotting away under winter’s moon

by lonedevil on 2 Feb 2005 at 20:45

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