Mike Smith
01/30/10, 10:52 AM
Carved out of a powerful rock lies a great statue,
Formed from the best metals and plastered with gold,
And its covered with warmth when the skies are blue,
It serves as a tower for nature and people when it's cold.
The brush of fingers will unveil its name,
And those forgotten in time since conquered,
A cocky shadow of time all the same,
Voiced cries, yearning for souls without a word.
Dark hairs remembered no more here,
And acts of virtue drove down to the grave,
Only fresh cut grass and concrete lay near,
A constant reminder of the free, the brave.
Etched lines of despair and thought surround the face,
A sword buried beneath a muscular hand,
As if it were to reach out, and conquer the place,
With its destiny left to deteriorate into coarse sand.
Tons of people go by this way around mid-noon,
And admire the knowledge of the evening,
And they shout with strife to the shining moon,
But in the shadows that follow, theres nothing to bring.
A woman with nothing special comes forward,
And her eyes widen at the image of a warrior for a while,
Leaving she leaves a kiss and a rose with no final words,
Right before the statue's somber grin comes to a smile.
Formed from the best metals and plastered with gold,
And its covered with warmth when the skies are blue,
It serves as a tower for nature and people when it's cold.
The brush of fingers will unveil its name,
And those forgotten in time since conquered,
A cocky shadow of time all the same,
Voiced cries, yearning for souls without a word.
Dark hairs remembered no more here,
And acts of virtue drove down to the grave,
Only fresh cut grass and concrete lay near,
A constant reminder of the free, the brave.
Etched lines of despair and thought surround the face,
A sword buried beneath a muscular hand,
As if it were to reach out, and conquer the place,
With its destiny left to deteriorate into coarse sand.
Tons of people go by this way around mid-noon,
And admire the knowledge of the evening,
And they shout with strife to the shining moon,
But in the shadows that follow, theres nothing to bring.
A woman with nothing special comes forward,
And her eyes widen at the image of a warrior for a while,
Leaving she leaves a kiss and a rose with no final words,
Right before the statue's somber grin comes to a smile.