Most read ▸
BomberJacknut
Watching silently
Staring at the moon
It's a shadowy light
Under which they swoon
A call erupts forth
Bouncing 'cross the world
Sweeping through empty streets
Around houses does it whirl
But nobody came
It fell hard on deafened ears
Despite the endless quiet
No one ever hears
So there's the moon, see how she flies
Across the sky that night
That hollow moon, so red and seething
For none will hear her plight
A lie on Friday
A lie on Saturday
A lie on Sunday
Right before the dusk or dawn?
A promise on Wednesday
A promise on Thursday
A promise on every day that ends in 'y'
Why?
I ask.
Why do you lie
To me? You don't answer
I never spoke the question out loud
You always take more than allowed
Maybe it's my fault
Oh, it's definitely my fault
And all my faulty empathy
Unrealized, the dim hours come and go,
A hooded, listless file of shadows pale;
Men's deeds like visions pass, and scarce avail
To stir dull thought or give it ebb or flow;
The hopes that pushed us Heavenward once, aglow
With passionate desire, now flag and fail;
The lights have vanished, and the wine grown stale,
The blade is rusted and unstrung the bow.
Oh, better far to climb the toilsome height
Than linger in the valley's flowered way,
Far better in a losing cause to fight
Than feel one's sinews wasting day by day;
Give me the hemlock draught and dreamless night,
Before this daily death of apathy !