The thundering rain cuts through the crowd,
It's the voice of madness amplified loud.
Screams of joy, rage, sorrow and pain,
Too many emotions to palm; in this melodramatic rain.
A tiny flicker sets off in the gloom of the night,
Glimmer of hope saying, "Everything is going to be alright."
Promises made at the hold of both hands,
But broken dreams seep through like sand.
The wailing winds burn through the walls,
With a dancing rhythm and a trance-ing squall.
Breathing the life that cannot be seen,
Leaves one to live a life on the in-between.
The shattering silence speeds in all directions,
Eliminating all doubt and bequeathing only a reflection.
Looking deep it's a pull in into the final hour,
Where the devils are waiting for the bloom of a flower.
YOU ARE READING
Reflections of the Son 2008: Phantom Reality
PoetryThis is YEAR ONE of my collection of poetry made from ranging moods, styles & motifs; each telling a perspective on life, as I, the author, see it. A piece written every week in the year of 2008; totaling at 60 devious deviations with 1 bonus poem m...
