The last light fell
And silence swept the sky
The night feel deep
But no one heard their cry
And promises made grave
Are now to rich to save
And all that’s left is done.
They preach to crowds
They billow, spew and urge
They call to him
But practice not his word
And all they need is them.
Amity, accord
Speak not now for peace
Repose, repeat
Repent and promise keep
And time will not stand still.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
Of a Strange Nature
Take thy forfeiture
In the cold chill
Of a crimson dawn
Shylock revisited
On the land
That time forgot
Away, away
Lest dawn creep
Lightly into day
Away, away
Lest sons begot
Stand not the fray
A pound of flesh
Beyond reason
Amid the city
That stands beside
Cardboard houses
In place of dreams
Gone by.
In the cold chill
Of a crimson dawn
Shylock revisited
On the land
That time forgot
Away, away
Lest dawn creep
Lightly into day
Away, away
Lest sons begot
Stand not the fray
A pound of flesh
Beyond reason
Amid the city
That stands beside
Cardboard houses
In place of dreams
Gone by.
Labels:
africa,
humanity,
poetry,
Shakespeare
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