Dark perceptions Crows on silent wings swoop low
and away,
secure in their black cloaks;
Hearing no voice bar their own
as winter hang's grimly on
determined
while spring wait's for a foothold
in a land that is dead and alive
and how vile and cruel
those dark perceptions,
the strange tormenting ruminations
while the birds dive and wheel
and glide around the child
alone on the long wet stretch
of curving sand
as madness took it's grip of iron
like a snarling cur with sunken teeth
worrying his mind
bloodlessly
endlessly
flicking
flat
pebbles
over end,over end,over end
to the edge of the earth
or so it seem's
as those endless thoughts
drive him to the brink of death
and the stones skip and skim
end
over
end.
four,five,six times and gone
and the man watches the child
who is now the man
and curses that filthy devil
for the child's pain,
and the years of silent screaming
that is to come
while the man and the child
wait for death
on an empty,wind swept beach.....
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