Beneath this haunted sky
The stones retain the memory Of blood that flowed like rain, The wind still carries echoes Of those that cried in pain. The stars themselves bear witness To the dancing feet of time, Blowing away the ashes Of a heavenly sanctioned crime. The tiny eyes of innocence Once saw the wasted lives, Puzzled that their own gods Could not stop the christened knives Unto their least breath traveled The chorus of their prayers, The light of life had trapped them In an unending circle of years. The stars that day also shimmered Cried as they watched them die, The souls still think they're living Beneath this haunted sky.
Rhyming
Philosophical
8
0
menoh
I am a button pusher. I stir up trouble. It is what I do. I live in the borders between light and dark. I can write about beautiful things, and joy and love, but I find I am more creative when i write about the dark. I love to hold a mirror up to the...
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