To leave the land
Of broken stones
And fly through
Fractured skies
Where every man
Will die alone
And upon dying
Rise....
To sail beneath
An amber moon
On seas of
burnished brass
And hear
The eldritch
Pipers tune
That turns the skies
To glass
Within the aspect of a dream
Cold blooded music starts
To draw the dreamers
Inner scream
From manufactured hearts
Held within this tortured breast
Reflects an inert sky
Where broken stars are laid to rest
And universes die
So...
Dance
My children
Dance.
Lose yourself
In gossamer dreams
Whilst the stars
Play a waltz
For the
Lonely
Ones...
YOU ARE READING
In this, the grey silence.
Poetrypoems about the grey places that we sometimes inhabit and the beings we meet there. We transfer our memories to the cold grey silence. A place of storage, a world where dreams are created and nightmares lurk. Let us explore before the fading starts.
