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Tribute To Ozzy Osbourne
The night was torn with a silver cry,
A voice like thunder’s
The world grew dim, the velvet black
Enfolded him and gave him back
A crown of thorns and iron flame,
And music wrapped around his name.
He walked through smoke, through shards of glass,
A mirror cracked from every past,
Yet in his gaze there burned a spark—
A child still dreaming in the dark.
Not heaven’s hymn nor devil’s sneer
Could make him bow or disappear;
He sang for those the night forgets,
For haunted boys and pale brunettes.
With trembled hands and haunted smile,
He danced along the razor’s mile—
Yet never once did he betray
The wild, electric break of day.
I would have known him in a dream,
Among the stars, a crimson gleam—
His voice a bell that shook the skies,
A hymn for all the world's goodbyes.
He loved as only broken do,
With howls that pierced the silence through,
And though the years may bow his head,
The song remains, and is not dead.
A prince not born but forged in fire—
He gave his blood to lift us higher.
Copyright ©
James Mclain
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