Blood Love Let
by
Walter Jones
(Age: 62)
copyright 10-13-2005
Age Rating: 13 to 127
A star lights the sky of you and I
Our souls touch and in that moment we fly
Eyes swim in pools of ever lasting words dedicated to life
Grass sings the song of birds and spring in our surprise
Only the night hears our breathing deep and carries the sighs
Warm all I have I share with the child and the preacher smiles
When I broke her heart I knew I was within only a beat of two
Will you call me in failing I listen and you say I do
Ages claim the will of blankets taking each cover of dark into the light
Shallow the pool of dreams streaming forward I am alone
Cruel as the ground taking the sound leaving me as cold as the bone
My hand reaches for and finds air floating free as the want of you in me
Fear takes silence in heart and leaves the want in body and passion left still it craves
Path of never leads in shadows from marks grieve in sleep among our graves
Dread takes its toll in the mist of night sounds pulling forth cold lonely love
Sunshine takes ways in streams of water falling in all things we met
Beams take the dust of fairies dancing in dreams pain is all we get
Stop the world in bell tolls upon a new testing of life and think joy
As the door opens and the window closes all the world becomes new halls
Love on a sleeve weaves its way into the fabric of hearts decorating your walls
Brother who will stop the rain from falling catch me as I fall into your fresh mind
Candles flicker in the march in the caves of death as our love once again wakes
How many now does it take to give back for all your demanding heart breaks
Travel stops beneath a tree in autumn leaves falling with squirrels screaming free
Last of red fills pools of desperate talking moon moves the man tide
Cavern of her heart separates the pride of the minstrel and leaves gap wide
King and queen leave the birth of new to sleep in the realm of peasant
Clouds now in unrest move in the glory see and now passed
Man is the vision lost in the earth and the sun last lot cast
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How often do I read, then read again, then read once more. And with each read new doors are opened, new halls spread wide. But ever-constant a haunting vision of a man as he could not be, but as he was what he wanted to be, as he had no choice but to be as he was, his world being dealt by forces greater than that of any man. Large the price to pay for being that which you are today, to touch the hearts and souls of many. And in that touch, perhaps lessen their own travail in an uncontrollable travel.