A bizarre shadow controls the band
The music makes you weep
It's a cold day for the celebration
Marching feet keep time with death
Lost souls cry declaration
The crowd begins to sweat
Feelings rise
Tension mounts
It builds to a volcanic head
Everything alive holds its breath
The moon turns bloody red.
Behold the Beast in his glory
Worship at his feet
It's the only way to live these days
When reactions answer fear
There is no mercy to give away
Survival instincts commandeer
Terror rules
Pain is king
The victory is complete
Thoughts don't belong to you
A pawn on useless feet.
Are You Reading Me?
Ominous. Me thinks there should mayhaps be a fourth instalment. For not all is doom and dark water. These poems do, though, indicate a proper religious upbrining:-)
ReplyDeleteWell, religion always did scare me! The bible, just like poetry, was written by man. I wonder if they wrote it down as soon as they got the message or waited until after work and tried to remember what God told them...scary!
ReplyDeleteWow oz, we really do think alike. I was contemplating trying to finish it since it’s loosely based on Revelation, and Jesus saves the day in that version. I seem to recall reading a lot of Stephen King books around the time I wrote these poems, and it shows. Yes I think I will try, thanks my friend.
ReplyDeleteHey Shirley, you know about objectivity being a newspaper person, but who can really say? Thanks for stopping by,
C you guys,
Bob