"Whispers"
In his empty pocket
He sees that life is not
The pictures he saw or
The things he learned.
He kneels, floating his
Demands to that world
Of dreams that promise
To forget.
And he hears the whisper,
"Nothing is a gift."
Youth was the promise,
But age is the mirror.
Sparkles and colors
Do not evaporate the wrinkles
Or erase the sad eyes.
She lifts a broken fist
Toward heaven
And hears the whisper,
"Age is wisdom, and
Heartache is defense."
Music was the drug
And drugs the cure--
An insane feast of flesh.
Lust called love hungrily
Snatched by the sea of hands
Clutching at any object
That scraped their fingers,
Ignoring the whispers,
"Sin, when it is finished,
Bringeth forth death."
In his empty pocket
He sees that life is not
The pictures he saw or
The things he learned.
He kneels, floating his
Demands to that world
Of dreams that promise
To forget.
And he hears the whisper,
"Nothing is a gift."
Youth was the promise,
But age is the mirror.
Sparkles and colors
Do not evaporate the wrinkles
Or erase the sad eyes.
She lifts a broken fist
Toward heaven
And hears the whisper,
"Age is wisdom, and
Heartache is defense."
Music was the drug
And drugs the cure--
An insane feast of flesh.
Lust called love hungrily
Snatched by the sea of hands
Clutching at any object
That scraped their fingers,
Ignoring the whispers,
"Sin, when it is finished,
Bringeth forth death."
