The Bell Absurd


Where the sun cast a shadow on the pale black snow
And the gates to heaven stood way too low
Far away in a memory, a ghost will say
You drove the road to hell and now you must pay

In the ash of the war stood a child so high
Then a crack from a barrel shot him to the floor
Neath the mask of a god everyone must die
For the hunger of the devil breeds so much more

Ten years she was torn by the winds of the mountain high
A witch condemned to burn but never die
She walked the streets of paid love, with a smile on her face
And sang their songs with a tear in her eye

To the hollows of an empire to which all have prayed
Stood the chill of the graveyard where her sunset laid
With a chain around her stone to blight her soul
They rose the sun to the heavens through eyes of coal

As the years stole her story from her lips so brave
And the winds blew the ashes over her grave
Another child stood high and spoke her words
And the crack of the barrow rang the bell absurd

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This Poems Story

One must most trust the signpost at a crossroads, even on windy days.