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Jack Stone Poem
Is this world not better blind? A darkened place where there be no colour left to find, where we are unable to judge by face or skin, would this not end all the damned wars and hates that race and creed did begin?
Forget what my fathers did for yours have done as much. Say not that you deserve nor use history as your crutch. Stand upon your own two feet and meet the day with pride, the time is done when behind bygones you might hide.
Raise your own voice and see with your own eyes. Sever now all the past and its pointless ties. I have wrought no harm upon you so cease your empty lies.
When the world be dumb and blind, that be the day when hatred dies.
Copyright © Jack Stone | Year Posted 2015
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Details |
Jack Stone Poem
I see you there, I see you clear
What have I to love but you my darling dear?
Your empty mask, your hard set eyes, your raven cloak so full of lies.
Your barest whisper a gale wind's force, I hear you coming astride the reaper's moonwhite horse.
Your sharpened blade upon my skin, your mask is blank but i feel your grin.
I hold the power of all the world yet it crumbles before what you've unfurled.
A tapestry of wit and spite, glittering with all of your mesmeric might.
The granite stones set within my hardest bones shatter as you move before my gaze, binding me for all my living days.
The endless waters of
my eternity dry to dust even as I fear that you will leave me with your mocking waves, mad with lust.
The air within my lungs turns to blackest smoke as I hear you laugh and my frail form chokes an' my cheeks remember your unkind strokes.
The fires in the secret chamber of my heart are quenched before our fated battle can even start, your every rebuke still fresh and smart.
The strength of my spirit is naught but feed unto the crows as the truth of my denied humanity finally shows.
Know me for I know you well, as I have labored under your yoke and dredged you up from burning hell.
I hate you and love you oh so well, you crush me and raise me to heaven's tolling bells.
I know your name my darling dear, I know it well tis writ upon the blade that ever my heart hath speared.
Your name my lady, is Fear.
Copyright © Jack Stone | Year Posted 2015
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