fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 
the echo of the mad machine
warns us of yet another hell
sounds that are yet wholly unclean
suppress the organ and the bell
what older folk would not have seen
cannot be hidden by a spell
the angry monsters do not preen
we do not hear the victim yell

a terror that comes in deep night
is not the one we should have known
the words that will each spirit fright
tell us that justice has long flown
the chance of honour is but slight
the crocodile's now fully grown
ancestral deaths it must requite
and into desert turn the sown

shadow of choices we've not made
a fear that life has passed us by
the endless armies on parade
the television's booming lie
we are seduced to be afraid
of screaming death from hateful sky
the ones who could not make the grade
now look on us with horrid eye

there is no longer healing rain
behind the clouds the sun's quite cold
we can no longer see things plain
we are too fearful to be bold
demons occupy the terrain
our spirits now have become old
all we can feel is endless pain

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
silence broken by loud scream
the things we know have all come true
we have no option but to deem
the old betrayed and blame the new
what is is more than what may seem
the one who wins is he who slew
the creature lurking by the stream
and then received more than his due

a world of choices comes to one
we reach a fork in the long road
we cannot walk nor even run
what was behind us is our goad
we know the path that we must shun
we understand the secret code
each hopes for a returning sun
and struggles under the huge load

no signal comes to tell us how
we these strange paths must navigate
sweat shall spring up on every brow
we'll never reach the staring gate
unless we this hard truth avow
there is an answer against fate
and more than that we must allow
to come into our proper state

all change requires some early pain
your heart must take it beat by beat
not thinking of the coming gain
just whether the road suits our feet
the mountain giving way to plain
stale water giving way to sweet
rejoicing in the autumn rain
and laughing in the city street
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
the tale's been told
time does not heal
memory's cold
we can't appeal
lies now are bold
we're told to feel
that brass is gold
under the wheel

the eye is filled
with many tears
the hopes then killed
the constant cares
innocents grilled
morons with airs
the grain is milled
it has been years

rules now are made
to hold pain back
but there's no shade
we know the lack
hate makes the grade
all fades to black
one more parade
then we attack

the ones who died
are all now dust
the ones who cried
have lost all trust
we know who lied
and feel disgust
no blushing bride
no golden crust

we feel the shame
of showing fear
we take the blame
we were not there
there's been a claim
no one would dare
snuff out the flame
let in the air

too little time
too swift a shove
under the grime
a single glove
it was a crime
they say above
the moment's prime
still we may love

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fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
fledgist

March 2015

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