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Poetry
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| A King's Beginning | |
| By thombre78 | ||
| 18 October 2007 | ||
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I. A dead king rests upon this ancient golden throne.Blind and boldly broken. An eclipse without a sun. Our army sleeps tall, in his dreamless thundering bones, Still and silently calling, his mourning's fading love… And the father watches his flocking birds sprawling upon the sand. Their tides receding into the earth, dropped from white sky’s land. And by this hand they make their stand ‘gainst the raging lust of waves. Vying to die beside this cold tide, upon the sand from whence they were saved… III. In the deception of a dream, this lion hunts lone, Buried and hungry, where his children have grown, Into ghost voices hollowing, bleeding like stones, Walking as shepherds, herding the unknown… Hearts. Pools reflected in light As deep as a boundless typhoon, Faith and Life, starry as night, A “crown of thorns” that may bloom… V. And when darkness falls, windows to walls Daisies on mounds so will swoon In chill air of fall, this prayer will be gone, Like a star behind a dark moon.
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