Giants of the Earth

Giants of the Earth, in ancient air,
Watch silently as earthly rumbles deep,
And as the world below drifts off to sleep,
A ghostly peak, refreshed beyond the glare.

Beauty in the vast, unparalleled,
Iridescent on one side of two,
Overcoat, to cast off; overdue,
Tremble underneath where others dwelled.

Tyrants roam, to crumble at their feet,
Crushed, reanimated in the well.
Deepest floors promote above the swell,
To join their brothers in a higher seat.
Born of the inferno, ash to earth,
Rises up to split the world apart,
Illicit in the breaching of His art;
Eventually accepted in His mirth.
Spherical, in rupture; oh the scars!
Forces, darkened, unable to tame,
Ironically those which born of flame,
Inexorably die among the stars.



◄ Mortality

Oh Darkness, Sweet Darkness ►


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Sun 20th Jan 2013 01:34

This was inspired by events that happened to me. Including the bird that was thrown to the floor from thirty feet up, and the lights being extinguished as i passed each of them by. Strange phenomena that caused the break up of my first marriage. All true mate.

Good poem you wrote!

Keep posting


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Sun 20th Jan 2013 01:28

Hi Simon, this reminds me of a poem I wrote some time ago. I will give it to you here.

Beneath The Ancients Glare

The beer from the Legion staggers my gait,
And the lights are all extinguished – passing each
Of them by,
The wife’s sat at home crying disappointment at walls,
As my mind’s still expanding on war,
A crow flying by thirty feet from the ground,
Intrudes this silence of night,
And the ghost of The Nephilim –
Catches its wings, and throws the bird
Dead to the floor.

Walking with war,
Walking with war,
The Space Angel stalking my haunch.

Azazel is a bastard procuring men
For a tragedy, insisting they shoot from the hip,
And prophecies of doom bring casualties back;
Men with a faraway look,
And we’re all empty of spirit, and souls
Of innocence are battered and slumped,
As his grin as a scapegoat is beamed,
And the light of the sanctuary is snuffed
Like a candle, and God sits with nothing to say,

And we’re walking with war,
Through night till dawn,
The Nephilim here at our side,
As Daniel fingers the trigger
To put out each victim,
Concluding our sorrow – so tall.

My wife’s sitting at home
Tending our son,
Then a Fist from my arms lashes out,
But I’m only the witness dragged down
Inside, all control missing from life,
Her beauty is marked the colour of red,
And I wake like a ghost from sleep,
And I’m spitting The Ancients for talking
In tongues, and my grief here on Earth has no bounds.

Oh how The Nephilim stalk
When the soldiers alone,
And kills all the love that he has,
And we’re walking alone,
Walking with war,
Walking The Nephilim here by our side,
And the journey from danger; an excursion
To hell; their heart turning passion to stone.

Walking With War,
Walking With War,
As The Nephilim’s dishonour,
Takes every soldier sold Death!

Michael J Waite 20th February 2011.

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