Bright Skies, overshadowed by streaks of gray,
The sun dies out as the moonless dark sweeps the sky .
Look across the barren land what was once a field of green,
Look through a mist that tries to blind me,
with tears…
Cold wind echoes through my ear drums,
Not a voice to be heard, far across the leagues beyond.
No bird sings, no bat cries,
Nothing that makes music reaches through,
Voices echo in pain…
A hoarse voice lets it self out, a cry for help,
And it echo’s from stone to stone.
A dried tongue hangs for a drop of rain,
Cracks scars across with shades of dust
A hollow beat echo’s through somewhere,
somewhere deep inside that need to reach out.
The skin burns, Sight slowly plunging to darkness
Slowly as the noose tightness around the neck
The Martyr hangs in the name of named holy to his heart.
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LokiMelkoR pleads mercy from his fans for the long absence. But I am currently working on another project I had eye’s on for long. A novel. Lets see if it makes to the light of day.
Also Loki has learned that When your nerves are pushed to its very limits where you cannot bear it, Creativity erupts.
