Danny Boy's Demise (1975-2017)
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Description:
For me, this poem is about the sign of the times. For some, it is a controversial piece, but that's okay. The message is clear, for those that would read and understand...
Danny Boy's Demise (1975-2017)
And there they sleep so silently His hopes and dreams for Life Yet deep inside the pain runs deep How he suffers with that wound Oh Danny Boy Just take my hand And end your suffering He ponders rules and how to escape It's the words that give him strength But the voice keeps calling Oh Danny Boy It's time to go Come dance along With ME Torn and empty he watches them In slumber's hold they seem frail But forgiveness is their strength How he wishes he could be simply more like them And then that music calls to him His mired eyes wide shut Oh Danny Boy I've come for YOU Come rest dear boy Come rest with ME With open eyes he sees his end hanging from above His savior's arms in cold embrace begging for release Oh Danny Boy Come closer still Let me hold You tight He steps into the rising depths and takes the flaxen rope 'round his neck he wraps it and stands to wait his cue Oh Danny Boy Oh Danny Boy I've watched you All your life Sweet boy Fall to ME I'll catch you I promise eternally One last breath is drawn inside He steps beyond and down Like a leaf in the wind he tumbles away but something stops him short I've got you Oh Danny Boy I've got you Now rest Your weary head... |
Submitted on 2012-02-26 08:18:37 Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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Just for the record, "theludus" is an alias of "Daniel Barlow"...or is "Daniel Barlow" an alias of "theludus"? This is like a bad episode of Mission Impossible.| | Posted on 2012-02-28 00:00:00 | by krs3332003 | [ Reply to This ] | i don't think this works but, i'll tell you what would work. the slow torture of more | of your poetry. | Posted on 2012-02-26 00:00:00 | by theludus | [ Reply to This ] | Sad. This sounds to me like the extreme of self destruction that comes listening to inner voices. As in when a person seems to fail in everything and death seems to be a good excuse and suicide a quick option. If I am right its the battle many today fight. Even I fought that battle. How did I win? Poetry became my hideout. A world where I alternate between good and better. Where I ...its a good piece like an opera. But the fat lady doesnt sing at the end,she wails. Thanks for postin | | Posted on 2012-02-26 00:00:00 | by Temidayo | [ Reply to This ] | |
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