Post by Robin on Mar 7, 2006 15:39:28 GMT -8
This is a rather old poem. It was one of my last successful rhyming poems. Most attempts after this one just turned out even more childish than usual. I know there are some awkward patches here, but I've edited it a ton and what's left is stuff I don't know how to fix, so it's up to you guys. And if there are any glaring errors on the accuracy of my religious allusions, just point them out to me. I'm not making anything inaccurate on purpose. If anything's wrong, it's pure accident.
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We thought we would die that fateful day
When world crashed down to the devil’s fray.
And the flames licked at the charred broken seats,
And the waves lapped out at the Lord’s deceits.
Well, we didn’t die, but the others sure did.
Their souls and their spirits the archangels hid.
And we crawled from the rubble of what once was a plane,
And we looked with wide eyes at our brand-new domain.
We found our Eden, our promised land.
We were fed and gave drink by the Lamb’s gentle hand.
And we wondered at blossoms that bloomed on the trees,
And we breathed in their scent on the tropical breeze.
Well, summer will die, and all good things must end.
And our broken hearts, well, they never did mend.
And when hurricanes hit, the waves crash and foam,
And the flowers are ripped from their lucullan loam.
Well, the Good Lord delivers, or so they say.
But all will soon follow old Lucifer’s way.
And, come what may, we won’t stay together,
We will be torn apart in this Capricorn weather.
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We thought we would die that fateful day
When world crashed down to the devil’s fray.
And the flames licked at the charred broken seats,
And the waves lapped out at the Lord’s deceits.
Well, we didn’t die, but the others sure did.
Their souls and their spirits the archangels hid.
And we crawled from the rubble of what once was a plane,
And we looked with wide eyes at our brand-new domain.
We found our Eden, our promised land.
We were fed and gave drink by the Lamb’s gentle hand.
And we wondered at blossoms that bloomed on the trees,
And we breathed in their scent on the tropical breeze.
Well, summer will die, and all good things must end.
And our broken hearts, well, they never did mend.
And when hurricanes hit, the waves crash and foam,
And the flowers are ripped from their lucullan loam.
Well, the Good Lord delivers, or so they say.
But all will soon follow old Lucifer’s way.
And, come what may, we won’t stay together,
We will be torn apart in this Capricorn weather.