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A morning, a dead morning ago I awoke in the dead of the winter's cold And surrounded by chilling ice frost that penetrates to the bone waves of rue to entice And there, did I stand As a stilled monument caught all alone Whereas the warmth, the deep-seated warm blood that coursed my veins began to wan
And in the days of my innocent youth, I ran free, only to kiss the
sky and watch the birds fly. But little did I realize that the Revenge
of Serenity would be at my throat, choking away any vestige of divinity
that lay within. A flash, an in consequential blink, a flicker of light
across the mind to cross the bridge from gaiety to mourn, a feckless character
to one with Intent and Purpose, only to lose the big brown innocent eyes
to scorn. Yea, I was once free as the proverbial bird in the sky, free
to roam the hills and knolls, the valleys and span the ocean, only now
to be caught fast coated with an evil and black sticky lotion. I fall,
I fall fast from the Sky of Innocence, only to plunge into the depths of
the sea, caught like a fly. Did we whisper at night of all the silent dreams To flood the minds with hope so great of a future untainted and clean? Did we awake to the dawn of light Tendrils splashing upon our brow an omen of a bright and sunny flight? How could we have known, How could we have known of the eclipse to foreshadow all the isolation that we bemoan? Did the feckless chatter throughout the night Beckon the Gods of vengeful Plight? Alone, in the backdrop, pearly tears so ugly stream from my big brown eyes clinging to my cheeks so snugly Alone, in the heat of winter did I fall from my frozen stance striking the snow with such force that caused me to shatter and splinter My mind, lost no longer a child feeling its way on the dusty ice seeking relief at any cost My soul, caught in a whirlwind of fury With Evil impugned on the very hearth Furnace that burns with intense anger consuming all that was left in the dowry My mind, found, but with Intent Seeking the causal link Seeking a focal point for the indestruction to vent And overnight a transformation so eerie For as once a eagle did I fly only to become a vulture so leery But I shall not wait for Death, as was advised by the Wise, but on blackened wings in the easterly thermals shall I rise My prey shall be the causal link that profaned the gaiety My victim shall be the focal point that lost serenity The blow shall be swift and untraceable like a stealth creature adrift whose trail and scent are easily erasable The blood shall splatter and run down the spine soaking the filth with the fluid of a million souls fed upon in ways so sublime And yes, I, too shall die For I am already dead For the Blood of Innocence was lost Every since I was shot down from the sky.
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