the end of something that never began

a killer's gun,

in his calm hand,

supposed to end lives,

to make knees bend.

 

a murderer's will,

on his creative mind,

the bodies that fall,

leaving blood behind.

 

the arms of a clock,

the moment they fall,

final revelation,

the bell to toll.

 

gravitation, its way,

keeps grounded and safe,

but one day it dies,

leading order to grave.

 

prison with its iron bars,

locks the beasts away,

till the day of peace,

the final decay.

 

the light of day,

is protecting from night,

till the hour arrives,

when nothing is bright.

 

a life so pure,

no place for death,

but the second will come,

and we'll choke on breath.

 

the end of something,

that never began,

and still tomorrow comes,

for us to start again.               -a- (02/15/2007)

 

Reviews

[The Musings of Mary H.]

You truly are an artist of words. I don't know if I asked you yet, but do you have a book out? You have the makings of a book! Excellent write!

mary

[Chloe..Across the Unive..]

Another one that leaves me a feeling of sadness and dying without really living , or have lived.
The murderer's will on his creative mind .. sort of chilling .. very emotional writing .

Chloe
xoxo