
Image courtesy of Brian Gaynor Photography
Silent, surreal, forest of dreams,
Light dangles angles in slip-streaming beams;
Art meets reality, merges in song,
Who I could be was me all along…
Image courtesy of Brian Gaynor Photography
Silent, surreal, forest of dreams,
Light dangles angles in slip-streaming beams;
Art meets reality, merges in song,
Who I could be was me all along…
Image courtesy of Brian Gaynor Photography
Poverty stalks around railway bend,
Where ignorance breeds its progeny vile;
This is where death and madness contend,
Where misty obscurity dulls each mile.
Who will step out of the shadows now,
And block His passage to innocent child?
Who will lift banner and force His bow –
To relinquish the lost, save the defiled?
Plague and destruction will mark His ingress
As blinded, we see Him, and sound no alarm –
Hooded, He’s coming, His footsteps are sure,
His fangs will spare no one, His progress spells harm.