Cold Lit Season

To handle this uncertainty 
Cradling words in mind 
Clever tricks upon my sleeve 
The seams to these hands of tears 
Nothing is. Not I, nor you 
This ground we live is quick to cave 
And so it is, so far from brave 
Alone in cold faced mockery 
The good, the bad do erase 
Us waiting in the fall  
Guilt and jealousy to provoke 
And build nothing but the fall 
Stone turn our hearts in brass 
Buried among the leaves 
The red, the oak and nothing else 
Just listening for the keys 
The sound of heaven, pure and white 
To blind all lightning paths 
Carrying our fears and doubts 
Close to the wondering mass 
So near the deep end 
We drown again and again 
This time the red escapes 
No longer through our veins 
Only in our centred eye 
Where we keep our wondering faith

by lonedevil on 11 Jul 2005 at 21:09

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