Topic: Sin | |
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The Sin
Under the withered webs they wept -- Their wings tipped in sorrow -- One of their own - another was lost -- No longer to be kept No joy and laughter on the morrow He paid with his life, a dearly cost Many slashes dripped in blood -- With a raszors edge sharp and true -- A battle well fought, that none, this time did win -- They gathered his body; from the mud His wings and hair a silver match, now a gray of deathly hue They carried and buried him amongst the honoured, for this was not his sin. They all cried under flourescent lights -- Their shoulders sagged in utter confusion -- One so young had passed away -- Her inks and paints will no longer give sights Her instruments and clothes, will now be in seclusion Her fairies trust, now dead; no longer hold sway Many slashes dripped in bood -- With a razors edge sharp and true -- A battle well fought, that none, this time did win -- In a room where she had laid, sits in a vase a single bud Her eyes are closed and yet who would know with her dress of ivory blue She's been laid to rest, with a stone above, "please forgive us - our sins". |
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Beautifully written, so sad when someone takes their own life, a tribute
to someone? |
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