nickdoescrack

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Still falls the rain,
the veils of darkness shroud
the blackened trees, which, contorted by some unseen
violence, shed their tired
leaves, and bend their boughs towards a grey earth of severed
bird wings. among the grasses, poppies bleed before a
gesticulating death, and young rabbits, born dead in traps,
stand motionless, as though guarding the silence that
surrounds and threatens to engulf
all those that would listen.
Mute birds, tired of repeating yesterdays terrors, huddle together in the recesses of dark corners, heads turned from the dead, black swan that floats upturned in a
small pool in the hollow.
there emerges from this pool
a faint sensual mist, that
traces its way upwards to
caress the chipped feet of
the headless martyr's statue, whose only achievement was to die to
soon, and who couldn't wait to
lose.
the cataract of darkness form
fully, the long black night begins,
yetstill, by the lake a young girl waits, unseeing she believes herself unseen, she smiles, faintly at the distant
tolling bell, and the still falling rain.