Thursday, July 11, 2013

The Date Is Placed

The Band is Playing,
the Song is Singing,
the horns are missing,
the Trumpets bring,
the triumph felt becomes a ring.

The seals broken in quiet silence,
the feeling is a certain violence.

No matter words the verse reliance,
the sentence heard enhances niceness.

The memory should deliver could,
bring a way that's paved with good.

The public fight of preaching plight,
the books gave light to this sight.

Reality, Might

The strength within is no sin,
the more you think,
increases 'When'

There is no loss in prepared,
the exercise makes aware,
this is not a dare.

The Mind unique,
the sonnet seeks,
to speak with countenance,
not fall to needs.

Instructions show,
'The Mean'
are foe.

The Color Red Fretting

Walk with me into a dark tomorrow,
yesterday warned of today.

People screaming,
"Why Me!?!"
the wounds inflicted,
a mental restriction.

Halted by such severe pain,
it is the human brain,
the seen disturbing,
the end beginning.

Just the other day,
spoken in dismay "I thought" said while straining,
the mental fight is draining them.

The streets no longer filled,
the 'Happy-go-Lucky' grab their heads,
"STOP, I'm bleeding!!"

Sadness has left and despair is rare,
leaving dread as grieving there.

As Society glances back,
the damage done,
it showed the track.

So fast it came,
played like game,
no one thought,
thinking shamed,
a railed train.

Kind words are no longer shared,
anger, rage and blame,
a common lane,
although this roar seems a chore.

The hope of happiness is fleeting,
no-one wants to save a life;
"If I can't laugh and have some fun, I'll stop you and make you RUN!!"
words to rue as people do.

Tragedy without the wound,
it is the mind the suffers truth,
makes Humanity point at You.

Sold-Out, shunned and cursed,
the defense rivals tact.

The hard stares judge the blare,
opinions cost,
tempers flare.

The World at Large destabilized,
religion splits,
takes more lives.

The division,
a rift is driven.

The worth of Rant,
measured verse,
serves the Masses,
it just gets worse.

All are fighting,
it has bad taste,
the Church is old and is trying to save face.

The answer offered,
the force of might,
relief became,
no death is right.

Pointing fingers,
Religion still says "It is Them, kill Them dead!!".

Disbelief is in the head,
reality is what's fed.

As it shows, turns-out to be,
they were mistaken,
evil tout,
People stop to hear the shout,
walk away a different route.

One by one,
two by two,
three by Ten,
the numbers shout,
disagreement stands as doubt.

Threats no-longer work the crowd,
Mass destroyed they seem annoyed,
the push goes on 'The Church' proved wrong,
Hell took shape regardless Faith.

The common thread,
sewn in head,
you have to see it to believe it,
'cause Innocence is said.