Tumultuous
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It is coarse, it burns, I bleed, I wither, I crash and burn tonight
I sigh, I sense, the rain, repents, rescinds, in black and white
Of vengence, of hatred, of anger, of anguish, the burden of it, immense
But prefaced by sorrow, by bleeding tomorrow, tormented by present tense
Imploring, beseeching, twisting and screeching, revealing tumultuous scars
From soldiers that cure, and wounds obscure, how blissfully twisted we are
Of morsels of death, and morsels of life, glossing in futile refrain
Believing we know, the seeds we sow, will harvest our crop again
So battles are fought, and empires are wrought, and kingdoms are won and lost
We harvest our meals, of shrapnel and steel, of money the bullets have cost
With mortar shells, and silver bells, and presents wrapped in glee
A doctrine of sheer syntaxual errors, and creeds we cannot flee
Of lofty poignance, and the preaching of solace, of hungry mouths we feed
Of truth, of wisdom, of knowledge, of freedom, of noble books we read
It is much, it is much, it is much, it is much, it is much too much to take
How less contorted, it would, be if, my eyes, you were to rake
It is coarse, it burns, I bleed, I wither, I crash and burn tonight
I cry, I sense, my tears, repent, how blinded I am by sight
And the past repeats itself.
1 week ago
