Artifacts Of The Black Rain
Stood there leaning to the city moon,
casting silhouettes tall to grip her white rooms
the black-clad voyeur in his black-clad masque
in the serpentine sun of tragedy basked
Stood there cursing at the soul-dead mass
with their fabled illusions, the vain dreams that passed
splinters of a life rushing by in the whirl
alone, silent warrior in a fantasy world
He cried for night but night could not come
so, swept in the shroud of misanthropia he went away
and fed the empty galleries
with the artifacts of the black rain
sunken into the shadows with a dry, sardonic smile
He made the footprints a part of his heart
to rouse a sacred confrontation
Stood there carving on the monument to lies
digging of the Earth, making friends with the soil
as the all-mother rises and bares her bleeding thighs
he disappears into her cold, icy womb
song performed by by In Flames
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long white moustache, and clad in black from head to foot, without a single speck of colour about him anywhere.
quote by Bram Stoker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Robert Buchanan
’T WAS the body of Judas Iscariot
Lay in the Field of Blood;
’T was the soul of Judas Iscariot
Beside the body stood.
Black was the earth by night
And black was the sky;
Black, black were the broken clouds,
Tho’ the red Moon went by.
’T was the body of Judas Iscariot
Strangled and dead lay there;
’T was the soul of Judas Iscariot
Look’d on it in despair.
The breath of the World came and went
Like a sick man’s in rest;
Drop by drop on the World’s eyes
The dews fell cool and blest.
Then the soul of Judas Iscariot
Did make a gentle moan—
“I will bury underneath the ground
My flesh and blood and bone.
“I will bury deep beneath the soil,
Lest mortals look thereon,
And when the wolf and raven come
The body will be gone!
“The stones of the field are sharp as steel,
And hard and bold, God wot;
And I must bear my body hence
Until I find a spot!”
’T was the soul of Judas Iscariot
So grim, and gaunt, and gray,
Rais’d the body of Judas Iscariot,
And carried it away.
And as he bare it from the field
Its touch was cold as ice,
And the ivory teeth within the jaw
Rattled aloud, like dice.
As the soul of Judas Iscariot
Carried its load with pain,
The Eye of Heaven, like a lanthorn’s eye,
Open’d and shut again.
Half he walk’d, and half he seem’d
Lifted on the cold wind;
He did not turn, for chilly hands
Were pushing from behind.
The first place that he came unto
It was the open wold,
And underneath were prickly whins,
And a wind that blew so cold.
The next place that he came unto
It was a stagnant pool,
And when he threw the body in
It floated light as wool.
He drew the body on his back,
And it was dripping chill,
And the next place that he came unto
Was a Cross upon a hill.
A Cross upon the windy hill,
And a Cross on either side,
Three skeletons that swing thereon,
Who had been crucified.
And on the middle crossbar sat
A white Dove slumbering;
Dim it sat in the dim light,
With its head beneath its wing.
And underneath the middle Cross
A grave yawn’d wide and vast,
But the soul of Judas Iscariot
Shiver’d, and glided past.
The fourth place that he came unto
It was the Brig of Dread,
And the great torrents rushing down
Were deep, and swift, and red.
He dar’d not fling the body in
For fear of faces dim,
And arms were wav’d in the wild water
To thrust it back to him.
’T was the soul of Judas Iscariot
Turn’d from the Brig of Dread,
And the dreadful foam of the wild water
Had splash’d the body red.
For days and nights he wander’d on
Upon an open plain,
And the days went by like blinding mist,
And the nights like rushing rain.
For days and nights he wander’d on,
All thro’ the Wood of Woe;
And the nights went by like moaning wind,
And the days like drifting snow.
’T was the soul of Judas Iscariot
Came with a weary face—
Alone, alone, and all alone,
Alone in a lonely place!
He wander’d east, he wander’d west,
And heard no human sound;
For months and years, in grief and tears,
He wander’d round and round.
For months and years, in grief and tears,
He walk’d the silent night;
Then the soul of Judas Iscariot
Perceiv’d a far-off light.
A far-off light across the waste,
As dim as dim might be,
That came and went like a lighthouse gleam
On a black night at sea.
’T was the soul of Judas Iscariot
Crawl’d to the distant gleam;
And the rain came down, and the rain was blown
Against him with a scream.
For days and nights he wander’d on,
Push’d on by hands behind;
And the days went by like black, black rain,
And the nights like rushing wind.
’T was the soul of Judas Iscariot,
Strange, and sad, and tall,
Stood all alone at dead of night
Before a lighted hall.
And the wold was white with snow,
And his footmarks black and damp,
And the ghost of the silver Moon arose,
Holding her yellow lamp.
And the icicles were on the eaves,
And the walls were deep with white,
And the shadows of the guests within
Pass’d on the window light.
The shadows of the wedding guests
Did strangely come and go,
And the body of Judas Iscariot
Lay stretch’d along the snow.
The body of Judas Iscariot
Lay stretch’d along the snow;
’T was the soul of Judas Iscariot
Ran swiftly to and fro.
To and fro, and up and down,
He ran so swiftly there,
As round and round the frozen Pole
Glideth the lean white bear.
’T was the Bridegroom sat at the tablehead,
And the lights burn’d bright and clear—
“Oh, who is that,” the Bridegroom said,
“Whose weary feet I hear?”
’T was one look’d from the lighted hall,
And answer’d soft and slow,
“It is a wolf runs up and down
With a black track in the snow.”
The Bridegroom in his robe of white
Sat at the tablehead—
“Oh, who is that who moans without?”
The blessed Bridegroom said.
’T was one look’d from the lighted hall,
And answer’d fierce and low,
“’T is the soul of Judas Iscariot
Gliding to and fro.”
’T was the soul of Judas Iscariot
Did hush itself and stand,
And saw the Bridegroom at the door
With a light in his hand.
The Bridegroom stood in the open door,
And he was clad in white,
And far within the Lord’s Supper
Was spread so long and bright.
The Bridegroom shaded his eyes and look’d,
And his face was bright to see—
“What dost thou here at the Lord’s Supper
With thy body’s sins?” said he.
’T was the soul of Judas Iscariot
Stood black, and sad, and bare—
“I have wander’d many nights and days;
There is no light elsewhere.”
’T was the wedding guests cried out within,
And their eyes were fierce and bright—
“Scourge the soul of Judas Iscariot
Away into the night!”
The Bridegroom stood in the open door,
And he wav’d hands still and slow,
And the third time that he wav’d his hands
The air was thick with snow.
And of every flake of falling snow,
Before it touch’d the ground,
There came a dove, and a thousand doves
Made sweet sound.
’T was the body of Judas Iscariot
Floated away full fleet,
And the wings of the doves that bare it off
Were like its winding-sheet.
’T was the Bridegroom stood at the open door,
And beckon’d, smiling sweet;
’T was the soul of Judas Iscariot
Stole in, and fell at his feet.
“The Holy Supper is spread within,
And the many candles shine,
And I have waited long for thee
Before I pour’d the wine!”
The supper wine is pour’d at last,
The lights burn bright and fair,
Iscariot washes the Bridegroom’s feet,
And dries them with his hair.
poem by William Cosmo Monkhouse
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Mask of My Heart
As the cloud went to black
We lost our way back
As the sun set to night
No smiles of something bright
Lonely the moon bounced the starlight
When blood became cold as frostbite
Bleeding inside till black from red
Let the honesty fainted bed
They broke words of silent voices
Without harm with many chances
Never to see the truth
Nor then to face the truth
All remained invisible sight
Black blocked the white to face to light
Broken the heart of smiling face
When sense was gone no eyes to gaze
It turned into the silent noise
Black without smile and cheer but voice
Whispering tears dropped inside heart
It hurt it broke Mask of my heart
poem by Vidi Pudinkz
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In a Lonesome Burial-Place
In a lonesome burial-place
Crouched a mourner white of face;
Wild her eyes--unheeding
Circling pomp of night and day--
Ever crying, "Well away,
Love lies a-bleeding!"
And her sighs were like a knell,
And her tears for ever fell,
With their warm rain feeding
That purpureal flower, alas!
Trailing prostrate in the grass,
Love lies a-bleeding.
Through the yews' black-tufted gloom
Crimson light fell on the tomb,
Funeral shadows breeding:
In the sky the sun's light shed
Dyed the earth one awful red--
Love lies a-bleeding.
Came grey mists, and blanching cloud
Bore one universal shroud;
Came the bowed moon leading,
From the infinite afar
Star that rumoured unto star--
Love that lies a-bleeding.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Strangered In The Night
Well it was dark at midnight
There was hardly any moon
And no one really saw much
No one was really sure
But something didnt seem right
Something seemed kinda queer
The roar turned into whispers
Everyone stood t here
When the sounds fit the night
Something hiding from the light
Like strangers in the night
Well I didnt see them shotguns
I didnt see no knife
I saw this crazy black guy
With a demon in his eyes
I heard him say white man
Ive seen that silver cue
You dont remember me well
But I remember you
When the sounds fit the night
Something hiding from the light
Like strangers in the night
Well the knife just left his fingers
As the black guy took his aim
White guys head exploded
My God how much pain
And then everybody scattered
I heard some woman scream
God damn you old black bastard
Youve blown away my dreams
When the sounds fit the night
Something hiding from the light
Like strangers in the night
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black+White=My Life
Black-
The color of my soul
White-
The color of my spirit
Together Black and White combined
It all equals my life
The 2 only colors
That are not really colors at all
The story of my life
I am alone
I die slowly and painfully
Not a care in the world
Where I would end up
If only I would survive...
Black-
The color of my Heart
White-
The color of my Hopes and Dreams
Together again Black and White reunite as one
As you can tell
The 2 only colors of my life are Black and White
As if you care
You rather see me suffer in vain
You keep heaeing me say I am alone
Well now you know its true
poem by Makayla Straight
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Son Of Africa
Listen Africa listen!
Listen to the words of a stallion
Listen as I speak of a giant,
An African giant
A giant entangled by his own hand made snares
Yes! Indodana ya se Africa
Un-wax your ears and Listen
Great warrior of the chimurenga,
Phela you stood against white powers
And liberated black wishes
Against the Blairs and Bushes you stood.
Courageous, you battled the spite of the Smith.
Now listen Ndodana ya se Africa
Hear this young stallion galloping towards the truth.
In Limbo you stand snared by your own snares
In Limbo, you warrior remain just a memory
Hau lalela son of the soil,
It’s your people who go under the soil
Their calabashes are dry, they go under the soil.
Under the soil their bellies lie empty
Hau lalela Ndodana ya se Africa
Listen son of Africa
Do not stand as proud as death
Do not let its sting be your companion
An African warrior you must once more become
Adorn the spirit of Madiba, No easy walk to freedom
Remember...Listen...Remember.
T he Ndukus and the rocks, Africa’s weapons of old
Now Son of the Soil’s desires battle against Africa
Hau listen son of Africa
Lalela...listen...lalela
poem by David Lekoba
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Snowflakes
The kiss of the moon
Breathes life into blackest night.
Snowflakes
Lay on frosted field.
Sparkling under astral lamplight.
I stand where we once stood.
Holding my dreams so tight.
Silence winging through the wood.
Angels singing
Burning white.
There flies a symphony in my soul
Floating softly on the breeze.
But she's not there to answer
As I whisper
'Darling please'
To myself,
And lonely midnight fields.
To be so alone
Is to die
By the sword that passion wields.
Slowly, in black and white
Our love runs through the night.
Like a movie
That made us cry.
My elusive butterfly
Ebbs away on a rolling tide.
No, she's not there
But remains inside.
Forever to play the strings
Of my freezing heart.
Yet
After dewdropp clings
Sunlight and snowflakes
Have to part.
poem by Kevin East
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Legend
The blacksmith's boy went out with a rifle
and a black dog running behind.
Cobwebs snatched at his feet,
rivers hindered him,
thorn branches caught at his eyes to make him blind
and the sky turned into an unlucky opal,
but he didn't mind.
I can break branches, I can swim rivers, I can stare out
any spider I meet,
said he to his dog and his rifle.
The blacksmith's boy went over the paddocks
with his old black hat on his head.
Mountains jumped in his way,
rocks rolled down on him,
and the old crow cried, You'll soon be dead.
And the rain came down like mattocks.
But he only said,
I can climb mountains, I can dodge rocks, I can shoot an old crow any day,
and he went on over the paddocks.
When he came to the end of the day, the sun began falling,
Up came the night ready to swallow him,
like the barrel of a gun,
like an old black hat,
like a black dog hungry to follow him.
Then the pigeon, the magpie and the dove began wailing
and the grass lay down to pillow him.
His rifle broke, his hat blew away and his dog was gone and the sun was falling.
But in front of the night, the rainbow stood on the mountain,
just as his heart foretold.
He ran like a hare,
he climbed like a fox;
he caught it in his hands, the colours and the cold -
like a bar of ice, like the column of a fountain,
like a ring of gold.
The pigeon, the magpie and the dove flew up to stare,
and the grass stood up again on the mountain.
The blacksmith's boy hung the rainbow on his shoulder
instead of his broken gun.
Lizards ran out to see, snakes made way for him,
and the rainbow shone as brightly as the sun.
All the world said, Nobody is braver, nobody is bolder,
nobody else has done
anything equal to it. He went home as easy as could be
with the swinging rainbow on his shoulder.
poem by Judith Wright
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Strong Black Woman
Baby, such a long life, my child
So many stories I have to tell you
Of slavery and of tragedy
Sit down and listen to my tales
Everybody thinks that the strong black woman died
No, she only stood back because she had not cried
She took a minute to rest. She cried. Her heart so heavy
But she’s back, baby. And child, she’s so pretty
I’m a strong black woman, and I am fighting
Don’t mess with me; I’ll leave your eyes shining
I give these children all the love they crave
I’ll beat away any energy that makes life grave
Hallelujah, the strong black woman still lives
Hallelujah, the strong black woman still gives
Hallelujah, can you feel the strength of her?
Hallelujah, this woman is one you can’t deter
Praise the lord’s name and speak in tongues
May all the strong black women live so long
I am a strong black woman, I am here
A strong black woman lives in my heart
Hallelujah, the black woman is so strong
Hallelujah, this has become my favorite song
Hallelujah, the strong black woman prospers
Hallelujah, she is no different than her brothers
The strong black woman never died, she lives
See, no matter what happens she always survives
I am here, I am a strong black woman, in disguise
And this newly strong black woman never dies
Praise the lord’s name the black woman is back
Now the world knows that we survive any attack
Give her all the suffering children or people in despair
Because the strong black woman will return them to air
The strong black woman was not lynched or killed
She gave herself a proud face and lived on so skilled
Praise the lord’s name and know that she lives on
Hallelujah, the strong black woman will never be gone
poem by German Alcala
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On The Sands
ALL the air was tranced and the sea was stilled,
And we stood and dreamed of a world to be.
When it seemed to me that our souls were thrilled
With a sudden sympathy.
My life's long riddle at last I read,
And the spirit-face I had sought I knew;
All the Past's far years to this hour had led
On the sands alone with you!
And you—you thought that the skies were fair.
And such twilight peace you had seldom known;
And you never guessed that a soul was there
That hungered for your own!
You never knew—there was just the lack
Of a passioned look that would thrill me through,
But the night swept down, with its shroud of black,
And you never, never knew!
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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Watching The Crows
A bushman got lost in a scrub in the North,
And all the long morning the searchers went forth.
They swore at the rain that had washed out the tracks
And left not a trace for the eyes of the blacks;
But, trusting the signs that the blackfellow knows,
A quiet old darkey stood watching the crows.
The solemn old blackman stood silently by;
He stood like a statue, his face to the sky.
Black Billy was out of the bearings—we thought—
If he looked above for the bushman we sought;
For we rather suspected the spirit would go
In—well, quite another direction, you know.
Most bushmen on solemn occasions will joke,
And unto Black Bill ’twas the super who spoke.
He asked, as he cocked his red nose in the air—
“You think it old Harrison sit down up there?”
“I’m watching the crows. Where the white man lies dead
The crows will fly over,” the blackfellow said.
The blackfellow died, and long years have gone round
Since the day when old Harrison’s body was found;
But still do I see, in my vision at night,
A faint figure come like a shadow in sight,
And nearer and nearer it comes till it grows
Like the form of that blackfellow—“watching the crows”.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Spook
Last night I dreamed that I was come again
Unto the house where my beloved dwells
After long years of wandering and pain.
And I stood out beneath the drenching rain
And all the street was bare, and black with night,
But in my true love's house was warmth and light.
Yet I could not draw near nor enter in,
And long I wondered if some secret sin
Or old, unhappy anger held me fast;
Till suddenly it came into my head
That I was killed long since and lying dead-
Only a homeless wraith that way had passed.
So thus I found my true love's house again
And stood unseen amid the winter night
And the lamp burned within, a rosy light,
And the wet street was shining in the rain.
poem by Clive Staples Lewis
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Long Black Veil
Ten years ago on a cold dark night
Someone was killed beneath the townhall light
There were few at the scene, but they all agreed
That the slayer who ran looked a lot like me
She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows but me
The judge said son, what is your aliby?
If you were somewhere else, then you wont have to die.
I said not a word, though it meant my life,
For Id been in the arms of my best friends wife.
Oh, she walks these hills in a long black veil.
She visits my grave when the night winds wail.
Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows but me.
Oh, now the scaffold is high, eternity is near
She stood in the crowd and shed not a tear
And sometimes at night when the cold winds blow
In a long black veil she cries over my bones.
She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows but me.
Oh, she walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows but me.
Nobody knows. nobody knows, but me.
Nobody knows but me.
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Night I Could Have Danced With My Knight
2004, eleventh of December...
A bittersweet thought that I will always remember
Sweeter I gathered, my long wait was finally over
Bitter was the outcome, now...my heart in deep slumber
The yuletide scents were all up in the air
Its soothing cold breeze prepared my warm embrace
A red carpet welcome to the stairway of paradise
As I imagined the night I could have danced with my knight
Waiting was tiring and I was so, so disappointed
Nowhere to hold now the promise that has forgotten
A beautiful night my knight stood me up
Breaking my heart...forever etched in my mind
The candles have melted and its light grew dim
The bed was so cold and the dance floor gone empty
As the piano played a ballad of a melody out of pitch
Just how I cried loud my heart for my poems unnoticed
What tomorrow holds, I dont have a clue
The shadows of my smile are shaded black and blue
In the still of the night, I still wait for my knight
Will you just be a dream? or forever out of sight?
poem by Cynthia Aluning
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The Long Black Veil
By: m. wilkens & d. dill
Ten years ago, on a cold dark night
Someone was killed, neath the town hall light
There were few at the scene, but they all agreed
That the slayer who ran, looked a lot like me
The judge said son, what is your alibi
If you were somewhere else, then you wont have to die
I spoke not a word, thou it meant my life
For Id been in the arms of my best friends wife
She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees
Nobody knows but me
Oh, the scaffold is high and eternitys near
She stood in the crowd and shed not a tear
But late at night, when the north wind blows
In a long black veil, she cries ovre my bones
She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees
Nobody knows but me
Oh, the scaffold is high and eternitys near
She stood in the crowd and shed not a tear
But late at night, when the north wind blows
In a long black veil, she cries ovre my bones
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jerusalem, Jerusalem How Glad
Jerusalem, Jerusalem how glad
am I in prayer to have stood;
in thee blessed city at remains
of thy second temple’s walls.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem Oh how glad
am I sacred Via Dolorosa walked;
in remembrance atonement passed
stations of The Cross to have passed.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem Oh how glad
am I who before entering sacred;
Garden of Gethsemane to view aged
olive trees was cast down humbled.
For Jesus in agony fear here sweated
blood in prayer to heaven to father God;
when last among these olives he stood
thus rejoice all bowed before our Lord.
In pilgrimage to Calvary where our Lord
for my sins humanities Christ was Crucified;
where a group of witnesses Marys stood
bewailing in heart soul worship as we should.
This most Holy City Jerusalem City of our God
site of our Saviour’s Cross where our Saviour trod;
Almighty God this is thy most sacred Holy City still
at Messiah’s return here raise holy men at thy will.
The Via Dolorosa (Latin for Way of Grief or Way of Suffering) is the sacred two part street, within the Old City of Jerusalem; where Jesus walked carrying the cross, on the way to his crucifixion.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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King Of Pain
Theres a little black spot on the sun today
Its the same old thing as yesterday
Theres a black hat caught in a high tree top
Theres a flag pole rag and the wind wont stop
I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running round my brain
I guess Im always hoping that youll end this reign
But its my destiny to be the king of pain
Theres a little black spot on the sun today
Thats my soul up there
Its the same old thing as yesterday
Thats my soul up there
Theres a black hat caught in a high tree top
Thats my soul up there
Theres a flag pole rag and the wind wont stop
Thats my soul up there
I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running round my brain
I guess Im always hoping that youll end this reign
But its my destiny to be the king of pain
Theres a fossil thats trapped in a high cliff wall
Thats my soul up there
Theres a dead salmon frozen in a waterfall
Thats my soul up there
Theres a blue whale beached by a springtides ebb
Thats my soul up there
Theres a butterfly trapped in a spiders web
Thats my soul up there
I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running round my brain
I guess Im always hoping that youll end this reign
But its my destiny to be the king of pain
Theres a king on a throne with his eyes torn out
Theres a blind man looking for a shadow of doubt
Thers a rich man sleeping on a golden bed
Theres a skeleton choking on a crust of bread
King of pain
Theres a red fox thorn by a huntsmans pack
Thats my soul up there
Theres a black winged gull with a broken back
Thats my soul up there
Theres a little black spot on the sun today
Its the same old thing as yesterday
I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running round my brain
I guess Im always hoping that youll end this reign
But its my destiny to be the king of pain
King of pain
King of pain
King of pain
Ill always be king of pain
Ill always be king of pain
Ill always be king of pain...
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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King Of Pain
Theres a little black spot on the sun today
Its the same old thing as yesterday
Theres a black hat caught in a high tree top
Theres a flag pole rag and the wind wont stop
I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running round my brain
I guess Im always hoping that youll end this reign
But its my destiny to be the king of pain
Theres a little black spot on the sun today
Thats my soul up there
Its the same old thing as yesterday
Thats my soul up there
Theres a black hat caught in a high tree top
Thats my soul up there
Theres a flag pole rag and the wind wont stop
Thats my soul up there
I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running round my brain
I guess Im always hoping that youll end this reign
But its my destiny to be the king of pain
Theres a fossil thats trapped in a high cliff wall
Thats my soul up there
Theres a dead salmon frozen in a waterfall
Thats my soul up there
Theres a blue whale beached by a springtides ebb
Thats my soul up there
Theres a butterfly trapped in a spiders web
Thats my soul up there
I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running round my brain
I guess Im always hoping that youll end this reign
But its my destiny to be the king of pain
Theres a king on a throne with his eyes torn out
Theres a blind man looking for a shadow of doubt
Thers a rich man sleeping on a golden bed
Theres a skeleton choking on a crust of bread
King of pain
Theres a red fox thorn by a huntsmans pack
Thats my soul up there
Theres a black winged gull with a broken back
Thats my soul up there
Theres a little black spot on the sun today
Its the same old thing as yesterday
I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running round my brain
I guess Im always hoping that youll end this reign
But its my destiny to be the king of pain
King of pain
King of pain
King of pain
Ill always be king of pain
Ill always be king of pain
Ill always be king of pain...
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Design a New Life
Design a new life for the soul in your heart,
It came from the days and nights
Created by the Praiseworthy.
Describe to me your life if the day was night,
If this night was in black and white, your life.
You speak in many colours, any colours,
Yet you live in the old night, the black dark night.
It never changes from black to white, until the day
Arrives. This is the time for your life.
Tomorrow has come and become a day to remember.
It is today that existence has shifted like the sun.
Today, you can design the stone house, where your mother lives.
What is this stone house?
It is the life around us; it is hard to destroy it.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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