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I stop and stare
at the powers that remain.
I'm just a weatherman
calling out the rain.
But I'm as silent
as the roses at your feet.
Defiant eyes
calling out defeat.
From what place
does the answer call?
Wherefore shadows
that puppeteer our fall?
How can one soul
make them see the signs?
The plastic crowds
all walking in their lines.
Are we all doomed
the metal flames of man?
Do we condemn those
doing what they can?
Is it fame, fortune,
or the game of thrones
that does drive
mad men unto their bones?
I stop and stare
at the landscapes that remain.
I'm just a weatherman
silent in the rain.
But I'm as pained
as the roses at your feet;
wilting slow
in the fires of defeat.
- by Absque Iter |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 11/03/2011 |
- Skip
- Title: Weatherman
- Artist: Absque Iter
-
Description:
We see the sparks,
and yet we wait
for the rendezvous
at Heaven's Gate.
I'll stand in line
and shout out loud,
and hope to disperse
the plastic crowds.
- Date: 11/03/2011
- Tags: weatherman
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