Terça-feira, 13 de Julho de 2010

The Moody Blues Poems....

 

 

Unknown echoes

 


Thru the wasted green lands of his fake paradise I walked down,

As all the grief flies beyond the echoes of one man’s sorrow,

The yellow light shades the virtual state of mind.

Vulture of my own happiness I get ill…

Throughout times the memory shaded the bright oracle,

King in my own sense I torture the heat.

Took nothing with in concern…

As my old mild memories fill the kill.

With my suitcase full of o paper, I resembled what’s left of the echoes.

King of a busted personality...I drove away…

Love lost I went west…..

Regretful maybe there was no future…

The wall that once stood there wasn´t the way to follow,

Even the heavenly fire died that day….

But the echoes of who… still linger and sustain.

Scares on the infinite soul,

Hidden down…as scrolls beneath a beach filled with blood.


Written by: David Nightingale às 21:49
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