The mantle of peace
Held in hands of castles
Upon the torn of heads
Beating drum with tongue
Blowing horns with nose
In the absence of light.
Melting rocks with sound of trumpet
Chasing feet counting dust
In the wing of melody
Held in space, of crying seas
Of clothed oceans
Dressed in waves of midnight cloud
Being the beat of gods
cutting hairs of lands
With sharpened tones
In string notes
As harp fingers
Compose song, played
To ear of days
As the rhythms of the gods
In the land of evil.
Adding your comment: