On a Darkling Plain[for Blackrose]

The sun has set on our harried noon,the owl play elegy on the lintel of gathering a dusk, serenating sounds scour the soul,with searing rhythm of pain, a ricocchet of cracking hearts,heard above the beatitudes muttered in chilling morsels or whispered from tyrant heights The sun has set on a blasted noon,we grope in the choking darkness for a flicker,to guide our faltering feet,while vultures above,attracted by the stench of our dying dream,eyele migrates with its burden of goodwill,leaving a chaotic order in our haunted lair agbe add a soprano of loneliness and seething sorrow,aluko supply a dirge for grandstanding cleric and mumbling mullahs who concoct hatred with fashionable false and deodorized dogmas The sun has set,yet dross of care maul the heart while hope gallop like a trojan horse to armageddon we are familiar strangers in a season of tsunamis,praying forlornly for sun's soothing rays,but Will dry bones ever rise again on this darkling plain? Aug04