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Burning Churches
Contributed by
Butterat_Zool
on
Wednesday, 31st July 2002 @ 08:44:20 PM in AEST
Topic:
LovePoetry
|
There’s nothing glorious to our work
nothing right or wrong
we like the way it glitters, jerk,
so let it glitter on.
We see the ashes rise all night
as tortured souls are saved.
We hear the groans of fire’s might
that free the silly slaves.
We kiss and make sweet love right there
upon the hallowed ground,
Romantic as the stars we share
that twinkle all around.
The cemetery down the hill is held by fire ants
and underneath the sacred soil,
ancestors shall dance.
They take back what is theirs by right,
and powerfully claim
the turf on which they live tonight,
they will achieve their aim.
They clamber through the wilted sand
and aerate the soil,
and all the while the ants stand,
preparing their recoil.
In the dancing orange beast
is seen The Open Book.
The creatures new are drawn to it.
They have to take a look.
So up the hill they slowly stride awaiting their rebirth
the ants cling on until it’s time
to prove their insect worth.
Once the leader’s at the top,
the chieftain ant lets loose
and orders all the fire ants
to break the ant-corpse truce.
With tongues of rot, they cannot scream,
their throats are dry as dust,
they feel no pain but only dream
patiently, as they must.
They dream the ants will not remove
the flesh they have preserved
as flame illuminates the hole
from which the eye once served.
Without a sound, the leader form reached the heavy door,
went on inside and freed himself,
along with eighty more.
They laid sans rest or slumber true
for some two hundred years
and now they can release themselves
and squelch eternal fears.
The ants that once did overrun
the holy grounds are gone.
They fought as one and died as one
but no more carry on.
The giant oak with iron crest
has sealed itself closed tight.
The stained windows glow the best
lit from inside at night.
The roof caves in, the altar burns, the crucifix ablaze
lets every ******* child know
they are no longer slaves.
There’s nothing more romantic, see,
than freeing withered dead.
Though crippled slaves they used to be,
the ants who bound them bled.
The tomes and swastikas that sealed
the fates of Fates inside
are crippled well, it is revealed,
by refusal to hide.
The world spins ‘round and machines quake,
a new child is due,
so let me dedicate this count
to someone special, you.
There’s nothing glorious, you see,
to all the work we do.
The glory lies within the strength
of those who cannot rule.
So now you know to move along
from where the flesh-beast lurches.
We have it all under control.
We’re all just burning churches.
Copyright ©
Butterat_Zool
... [
2002-07-31 20:44:20]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Burning Churches
(User Rating: 1 )
by Terry_Stephen_Driscoll on
Wednesday, 31st July 2002 @ 09:24:09 PM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
|
Loved this - thanks for the note at the beginning it took the harshness out - the first four lines lead me in and kept me there - a terrific piece indeed.
Best Regards
Terry |
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Re: Burning Churches
(User Rating: 1 )
by Chrissie on
Thursday, 1st August 2002 @ 07:51:45 AM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
|
An excellent, gripping piece that held me from start to finish. It flowed absolutely perfectly too...well done.
Chrissie |
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Re: Burning Churches
(User Rating: 0 )
by Former_Member on
Monday, 21st October 2002 @ 10:17:57 AM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
|
| i really really liked this, i wish i could write this good! it was very...deep, and amazing, that there is someone who can write this well.my compliments |
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Re: Burning Churches
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Tuesday, 17th January 2006 @ 03:07:40 PM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
|
| wowow! you leave me completely speechless with this one. ur work is tremendous! |
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