Wednesday, November 06, 2013

Cotton Fields.


Cotton Fields.


Cotton soft her beguiling way,
I never understood.
Some enchanted mysterious allure,
Something bloody good.
Working in a way of love,
I'm ever dreaming.
Living for a life alone,
She's ever scheming.

Day break warms the cotton fields,
Under baking sun.
Night-time hears Owls hoot,
Foxes on the run.
Save me from this travesty,
Bury me alive.
Fill me full of happiness,
Somewhere we survive.

Land of milk and honey,
Flowing as before.
Bested for a way to dance,
Always knowing more.
Tipped the scales towards regret,
Shinning ever bright.
Lost before we ate the fruit,
And that bloody fight.

Fumbling with a reddened collar,
Mortally wounded soul.
Staring into lifeless, sightless eyes,
Gaping open hole.
Implements of hatred shall fall,
Sacred holy ground.
Cotton fields dead to love again,
Silences painful sound.