Poeter.se logo icon
Redan medlem?   Logga in




 

Watcher in the rye



Watcher, watcher, in the rye,
hiding in the netherfields,
sing to me thy lullabye
of the crops which chaos yields.

I have walked the fields of anguish
waiting for the root's of earth
by my feed in need to languish
for the stark rebirth of mirth.
Watcher, watcher, in the rye
sing to them a lullabye.

I have walked, but walk no further
past this pasture born to die,
further down this field lies murder,
further lies the lie of I.
Watcher, watcher, in the rye
teach me see from eye to eye.

Seenlessly I hear thy lulling
from the misty mountain tops
and neath feet I feel the culling
of these trodden, rotten, crops.
Watcher, watcher, lullabyes
sing to me this thing which dies.












Bunden vers (Rim) av anathema VIP
Läst 163 gånger och applåderad av 2 personer
Publicerad 2018-04-28 11:53



Bookmark and Share


  Syrran77
The rythm is singing!
2018-04-28
  > Nästa text
< Föregående

anathema
anathema VIP