Empire Of Sun
05/18/09, 01:58 PM
A rose kindled bright by the dew frosted sun,
A crumpled up man folded stiff with a gun.
A bloody sky tinted red as the blood on his hands,
Twisted trees line the path of this beligerent man.
Crackled stones hit scuffed leather boots,
Tripping along over gnarled stretching roots.
A single bird trills a song before stifling its cry,
Then its colour is lost to the tree from the eye.
On he plunders with wrinkled face tight and drawn,
To hide from the day,
To flee from the dawn.
A crumpled up man folded stiff with a gun.
A bloody sky tinted red as the blood on his hands,
Twisted trees line the path of this beligerent man.
Crackled stones hit scuffed leather boots,
Tripping along over gnarled stretching roots.
A single bird trills a song before stifling its cry,
Then its colour is lost to the tree from the eye.
On he plunders with wrinkled face tight and drawn,
To hide from the day,
To flee from the dawn.