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When feeling has been lost... (Free verse) by philn
Behold this crimson night It's 451 Farenheit Burn your bridges, burn each page They've earned respect reflecting rage Now raise your gaze into the sky These flames are crawling up so high To touch the heavens, touch the stars And avenge the stench of branding scars Then heaven's hosts all shook their heads And seraphs wept from heaven's beds As aspirations to be kings Made fallen angels clip their wings And may this pride each day restore The joys of bittersweet remorse For all who trod this earthen vale Will soon be silent, low, and pale.

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xxx68.166.37.1850June 19, 2005 7:47 AM PDT
Shuushin207.5.211.1777April 23, 2004 7:02 PM PDT
Anonymous66.208.240.7410April 23, 2004 10:23 AM PDT
zodiac67.240.192.1627April 23, 2004 7:27 AM PDT
<~>64.252.164.2516April 22, 2004 11:34 PM PDT
wilco24.176.102.1319April 22, 2004 8:47 PM PDT
Anonymous147.226.157.9210April 22, 2004 7:04 PM PDT



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