Sunday, August 19, 2012

I Hear Dead People.


I Hear Dead People.



these cliffs carry a sound,
heard only at certain times,
in certain ways on certain days.
the laughter is of children,
at first I hear their joy,
then comes more, something unsure.

I felt a presence surrounding,
and fought to run far away,
but I knelt, lived what I'm dealt.
the voices became ever clearer,
a spectral awareness came nearer,
forcing me to stay, no running away.

old men of the turgid sea,
calling out, smiling toothlessly at me,
drowning in the dawn, long before I'd born.
then all they suffered was told,
how their lives were lost to cold,
gone into the deep, where ever they sleep.

but I hear more still saying,
the times when once 'a playin',
they fell so far, no safety bar.
and one man collecting eggs,
for those who'd pay he begs,
a simple wage, no more a sage.

tumbling down to the hell below,
is the echo I hear to show,
how lives were lost, at any cost.
such plaintive cries reaching skies,
above those swells they will ride,
below a swollen tide, will always hide.

all gone in days gone bye,
forever lost, the apple of my eye,
to grief I've known, only I can own.
for you and all those folk,
are missed endlessly, my heart broke,
your love I greet, till whence again we meet.




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