Down hollow streets in the driving snow
Through splintered glass and concrete bones
Brick facades and broken homes
In silent splendor of fractured stone
Stands the old cathedral all alone
The quiet peace of howling wind
Screams out a name without an end
Through scattered pillars that never bend
Heads of roofs that no shelter lend
And I cry with them for my long lost friend
A hand at my mouth, ice in my eyes
It's a mournful call, this lover's cry
that echoes through caverns where spirits die
and flings itself at the open sky
To die itself in the halls of time
Cold fires flutter in windows dim
longing for the warmth of home again
As I fall to the ground with a final plea
Don't bury me in this broken city
Take me home, take me back to Irene
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment