Passion Play An Old Mans Dream Journey

Passion play An old man’s Dream – Journey Luck walks him from the hands of the Grim Reaper, beyond the pearly gates of St. Peter, across the desert sands, into a carnival, the arms of a winged Angel’s, hands. Two freaks on the stage, of the world’s side show Within each, the other know. A lost soul, trumpet silenced by very bad choices. In his head – a con, a schemer – he hears inner voices. Take this Beauty, wing it into survival, into a living. Only himself, not to others, giving. Another lost soul, in a glass cage, her wings clipped. In a carnival side show, freaks, the audience is gipped. He knows the price she will have to pay. To save him and the game he will have to play. Captivated by her ethereal beauty, love making evolves into love. Beyond his greed for life, love’s conscience raises him above the slim of his scheme, to do all he can to protect his dream. The light of his love, surly – that moment - did beam. His plan jeopardizes, places her into the hands of hell. This winged Angel’s love, in her eyes it doth tell. She accepts her living hell in order to save him. The old man now tries to save her, prospects grim. He falls, a plan of the man who owned this winged girl. The plan failed, the old man’s life did not unfurl His heart opened and did strive, repent the wrongs meant as his soul looked out and upon, in sacrament. One more time, he picks up his trumpet. Sweet sounds come forth, beauty he let. She glided, walking on by, again he met his dream, there, before his eyes. He runs with her, jumps from on high, she flies, saving him with the strength and courage he gave to her. Upon angelic wings, into heavenly bliss, together. B. J. “A” 2 November 1st 2012