Theres no peace for innocence whos hope was traded then lost . . - TopicsExpress



          

Theres no peace for innocence whos hope was traded then lost . . . No ideals, just misfortunes No happy endings, just cracked weeping violins No distant dreams, just the fading light of flickering torches Cause all those wishes, were scattered bitterly to the four corners of the wind - in corporal punishment for that flagrant thoughtless hubris tainted sin When the music left the table, when the lights refused to dance There were no more . . . Childlike fables, postcard memories - left to chance Sunlit picknics, wrought a sudden storms indecent fury - Undeserved retribution dealt the joker on a whim Playground laughter, a carousel abandoned - left rusted rain dressed creaky endless spin _______________________________________ Cabbie - Youre here for the holidays? Widget - No exactly its for family, a health issue Cabbie - Ahh . . . i see, i am sorry to hear that. Health is very important, most dont realize that life is short, death can come to take you any-day, anytime. Widget - I was never afraid of death, in fact i welcome it/her, if shes to come. Fate dealt me to be around the sick and dying from very very young, it was from early on a familiar thing, there are very few certainties in life, the sun rising & falling day by day, the tides ebbing and flowing, the moon occupying the sky nightly, and that from the moment you are born into this world, the certain fact that one day, one unbeknownst to you, you will surely die. Fear of death was futile and always foolish too me, but I was always afraid of time, how much or how little is given, the amount of oil the candle holds for each of us. For me the goddess Time is the cruelest of mistresses . . . Cabbie - Thoughts like those, will will only wear you out, will only tire you early my boy Widget - Theres no rest for the wicked mister. And the wicked are not the cruel or, dispassionate, the wicked are the innocent whos youth was robbed too early, the young pushed out into the cold prematurely, and told to dig, to hold fast, to grow up and deal with it The cabbie does not answer, but only sighs with his eyes as the light changes from red to green . . .
Posted on: Fri, 19 Dec 2014 08:25:05 +0000

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