 |
| Bruce Turner |
| Clara Visitor from afar Pure as winter's snow Touching the lives of many Far more than she can know Her voice is that of angels In that far and lofty place And who will forget the kindness In her soft and gentle face Alas, she leaves us now For her homeland she must depart Her voice, our ears will hear no more But her song dwells in our heart |
|
 |
| Rage Building up inside me Like a thing alive slither crawl Lashing out! striking out at those I hold dear shattering my rose colored glasses Cruelty whispering sticky sweet lullabies in my ear, A blood red haze of spasms eating me inside............out Anger I rant...rave...scream...shout The pain of a broken heart Evil the pleasure of faces falling apart always with me,,,,from beginning to end looks like Bruce has finally found a friend |
| A tower to reach the Stars -Dawn- A man goes to it bearing his burden without thought The tower is shiny, new its light outshines the sun he piles apon all the lovers he's known songs he's sang, battles fought with help he builds ( for that makes work fun.) The tower is huge, nine, ten miles high hopes and dreams weaved, making future bright sucking the sun's rays , the life of the sky But the tower's almost done, who cares if its night. A tower of glass shrouded in mist blissfully unaware of the hungry abyss. |
| The Fall --noon-- The pieces fall like glass, hopes and dreams shatter with the shrill sound of a woman's laughter leaving a sea of glitter shiny ideals impale the ground streching to infinity or at least for miles around we tried to stop the fall but the tower was to weak we worked so hard to no avail our dreams had sprung a leak as it all falls apart we strive to carry on but try as we might it keeps on raining |
| Part III coming soon, I hope |
 |
|
|
|