Thursday, September 1, 2011

They sang of how things were...


The stars saw

The stars remembered.

They sang of times

Gone and past.

Of the things that only

Far-away stars can see

They sang in hushed choir

So only a few could hear

Their song of dragons

And minotaurs

Poisonous monsters

And men with spears.

They sang of skies

Purple and gold

As the sun set

On the bloody sand

The stars watched

Souls of better men

Sink between each grain

Until washed by

The foamy tide

And absolved

By the women of the sea.

They wrote the story

As a lonely ballad

In their dark night,

Stretched across infinity.

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