Feb 2015
The sound of death
Can Heaven be heard, Above the clouds, Do the angels make a sound? Imagine celestial music, Riding on the waves of the Atlantic, While fate orchestrates life, And all of its movements, Maybe we could catch a whisper, Listening at the top of a mountain, Would the wind tease our ears, Condemning our intentions, We could dance to it, On the shoreline, Searching for truth in our distorted reflections, Our eyes greedily seeking perfection, Could we pretend that we had heard, The most beautiful notes, And not be punished for lying, Would there be any reward in trying? Could our hearts do justice to the love, That would surely be carried within the notes from above, Without attempting to claim it as our own, And forging human lyrics upon the song, Would our audience ruin the sincerity, Of something made of purity, And all the blessings be gone? Or do we chance the wait of death to meet our souls, And hope that what awaits, Is not instead, The howling of Hell.
Copyright Jasmin Amber Starr 2015
Can Heaven be heard, Above the clouds, Do the angels make a sound? Imagine celestial music, Riding on the waves of the Atlantic, While fate orchestrates life, And all of its movements, Maybe we could catch a whisper, Listening at the top of a mountain, Would the wind tease our ears, Condemning our intentions, We could dance to it, On the shoreline, Searching for truth in our distorted reflections, Our eyes greedily seeking perfection, Could we pretend that we had heard, The most beautiful notes, And not be punished for lying, Would there be any reward in trying? Could our hearts do justice to the love, That would surely be carried within the notes from above, Without attempting to claim it as our own, And forging human lyrics upon the song, Would our audience ruin the sincerity, Of something made of purity, And all the blessings be gone? Or do we chance the wait of death to meet our souls, And hope that what awaits, Is not instead, The howling of Hell.
Copyright Jasmin Amber Starr 2015
