I sigh. In quiet numbness my ears hear the fall Of gentle, violent notes that grieve and scream, And plead for one more touch or one more song Of life, to wake from their cruel, sleepless dream. Yet none will heed their call. It comes, The rising feeling, the sweet sinking dread Of being seen by all and by the few. And I start closing eyes, shivering still, As now it's come to pass, I feel my cue, Hoping my heart has fled. I cry. In gentle, wrecking sobs I plead my guilt Of all that I have spent and lost in vain And beg forgiveness, ask for life, for hope, Counting on fingers sins that bring deep pain. Making me yield. There lies, Upon the hall of greats and of the small, The song. The steady rhythm of the heart That was. And is again beating for Him, In lovely notes. Thus, even the small shard Returns to all.
I close my weary eyes and wonder, dare I dream?
Should I escape in the oasis of a realm
That's filled with wondrous lies? Or should I scream
And shatter the obscuring blinds? As in the real
I shake the numbness of my limbs and still
I dare to feel.
In my dry bones I find no power as I kneel
And try forsaking the dreams which I broke
Of living in a world I dared invoke.
I beg to have the power that I sorely craved
Wrenched violently, as from the enslaved
I am still saved.
And who, upon your loving sight, to look has braved?
While kneeling, as your greatly wondrous might
Would make the fiercest statue run in fright?
And as your light would ma
I praise. I stand and slowly turn my eyes
To look upon, with sorrow and exempt,
The burned out fields of shadows I have dreamt
That still, in weakness and ill-vailed contempt,
Threaten to hurt, and as their image dies
I sigh and still I praise.
The days. The flickering hours struggling in
Their daily chase, which doesn’t cease to kill
In man the image of eternity, while still
I count my beats in seconds and until
You shall release me from thy earth, within
Your ways I’ll live my days.
Your grace. Your mercy and eternity divine,
The beauty of the fire burning through
All those that, from the making of the new,
Promise in truth. I
I sigh. In quiet numbness my ears hear the fall Of gentle, violent notes that grieve and scream, And plead for one more touch or one more song Of life, to wake from their cruel, sleepless dream. Yet none will heed their call. It comes, The rising feeling, the sweet sinking dread Of being seen by all and by the few. And I start closing eyes, shivering still, As now it's come to pass, I feel my cue, Hoping my heart has fled. I cry. In gentle, wrecking sobs I plead my guilt Of all that I have spent and lost in vain And beg forgiveness, ask for life, for hope, Counting on fingers sins that bring deep pain. Making me yield. There lies, Upon the hall of greats and of the small, The song. The steady rhythm of the heart That was. And is again beating for Him, In lovely notes. Thus, even the small shard Returns to all.
I close my weary eyes and wonder, dare I dream?
Should I escape in the oasis of a realm
That's filled with wondrous lies? Or should I scream
And shatter the obscuring blinds? As in the real
I shake the numbness of my limbs and still
I dare to feel.
In my dry bones I find no power as I kneel
And try forsaking the dreams which I broke
Of living in a world I dared invoke.
I beg to have the power that I sorely craved
Wrenched violently, as from the enslaved
I am still saved.
And who, upon your loving sight, to look has braved?
While kneeling, as your greatly wondrous might
Would make the fiercest statue run in fright?
And as your light would ma
I praise. I stand and slowly turn my eyes
To look upon, with sorrow and exempt,
The burned out fields of shadows I have dreamt
That still, in weakness and ill-vailed contempt,
Threaten to hurt, and as their image dies
I sigh and still I praise.
The days. The flickering hours struggling in
Their daily chase, which doesn’t cease to kill
In man the image of eternity, while still
I count my beats in seconds and until
You shall release me from thy earth, within
Your ways I’ll live my days.
Your grace. Your mercy and eternity divine,
The beauty of the fire burning through
All those that, from the making of the new,
Promise in truth. I
A whisper, in cold skies of old, dying stars
Is heard, and their lingering death
With not one regret turns and scatters in waste,
As realms of shattered humanity haste
To live and to burn out their breath.
Yet soon there's a scream, a small cry of despair
That binds all the skies to avail,
And one daring soul stands behind to convey
His wish to unravel all living dismay,
To bury his past and prevail.
And thus it begins, as no man can escape
The sweet domination of want,
While stars burn and shine, for so he allows,
The master of wishes that hastily vows
To bring forth desires to grant.
But no man can endure the cruel truth behind,
The was
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