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Show posts MenuIn The Skies Of Ethereal
All Words By : Stewart Alexander
ò Copyrighted 2014
Slipping away I hear the good days call
They seem to mock me from afar
Humming-bird wings blur my site
As nature breathes my view through scars
Lines converge around my thought
Created by mundane her endless trials
Life seems rife but caught
In seams that go on for miles
The water levels rise
Universal sand sparks a glass
Drowning in high tide requiems
You see my years do pass
Tin-foil as my shield
I attack the man with the gun
But Heaven forbid he's firing blanks
Or that his eyes get lost in the sun
Solitude defences
Sold to me in droves by masks
In missionary beliefs it will help
With all I seek and ask
Let water make me ill
Let me be sick on my beautiful days
Let the hold of pain fold
Through orchestral scenes from aching plays
Patrolled by Angels in the skies of ethereal
Crowded with souls and thorns
From the dead to the waiting in line to live
Are cubs kittens babies fawns
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