Frozen in Exile
Frozen in exile
Just outside the border line
where an old age have past
and an new begins it's reviving light
upon the mountaintops of despair
He stands there
waiting for questions of answers not yet reviled
as the wind washes away his disturbing tears
into a waterfall of an silvery lake
the tormented soul wants nothing but death
a raped heart mindless beading
in the cruel world we now live in
without any hope for survival
standing in that gray field of ashes
smelling the poisines fumes
hearing the cry's of ghost's who died here a long time ago
yet he does nothing
just staring into the horizon
waiting in his dark hours
until the sun would break an new day
but it never will...
Reacties op dit gedicht
| Ana (stacia): | Donderdag, januari 13, 2005 09:40 |
| Blij dat je terug vaker in de pen kruipt ... maar oh zo'n droef einde. What's up, babe ? kus ! |
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Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: The Slayer | 
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| Gecontroleerd door: christina | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 13 januari 2005 | ||
| Thema's: | ||