“The rains of Autumn are here,
They make wet my face
and hide well yesterday’s tears,
I will forsake all my smiles
and in the evening shadows
my life will wither and hide.”

Clouds at dusk, they bleed a song written by life’s blunt knife,
The ink of pain rains down upon me a sorrowful crisis,
It flows free from my veins serrated and sliced,
Sadness soaks into the dry sponge of my richly wasted life,

A chorus of starlings soars over the horizon dark and hazy,
Taking with them all tidings of hope and mercy.

She, who once sweetly sang the hymn of time,
Her song, which once echoed through my life and left a sign,
This music which was once the rhythm of our breathing rhyme,
It once more seduces me upon the purple twilight ridgeline,

The colours of the sunset bleed into the darkling land,
Dark depression leaks across my mind and stains my hands.

Grief, you rushed with wide open arms and kissed my once happy throne,
Your life changing embrace whispered secrets, laced with groans,
You cheated and robbed me, licked clean my weeping bones,
I know this world no more, only the memories now remain hot as volcanic stone,

All else is but a winter of my soul,
All now is buried in a cold graveyard hole.

Storms batter and sink my ships laden with yesterday’s screams,
The thunder echoes through the dead timbers of my dreams,
But know one thing, go chisel this on my headstone yet unseen,
Her spirit, her love, her words, all pure and clean.

Above the bitter eruption of tears
I hear a soul soothing voice which kisses away my fears.

*Her voice... I hear her beauty the night air fill,
It has her strength and it has her will,
As I stand on this silent grassy hill
I hear her still...

And she sings,
Her song dances and with truth rings.

Her empire, once vast and free, is now walled up,
He marked her face with the scars of unkind kisses,

Her floating ship with all her ambition has been beached,
He sabotaged her boat of hopes and drowned her dreams,

Her bank rich with love and treasures untold has been robbed,
He crept into the secret chambers of her heart and left her hollow,

Her reservoir of strength no longer runs fresh and deep,
He tunneled into her and leaked away her innocence and life source,

Her days of blue and white light are now anchored with gravestones,
He carved his name on her fear and showed the world he owned her,

Her songs of pearls and paper butterflies lie silent and wrecked,
He tattooed his ruthless red rage and rules inside her trembling throat,

Her spirit…
He will never be able to touch or tarnish her spirit.

His feet* – they walked upon the waters of untarnished truth,

His knees – kneeled to no man for He was a King amongst mortal men,

His legs – always journeyed to the valley overflowing with warm wishes,

His body – was the embodiment of all that is rich and wholesome,

His arms – embraced both me, you, him and her, young, old, black or white,

His fingers – as smooth and supple as the skies before summer’s soft rains,

His neck – lifted high not in pride or anger, only tilted upwards towards the Beloved,

His lips – spoke yesterday, to me today and to you tomorrow, to all everywhere,

His nose – inhaled the scent of newly born flowers on the eve of Spring of yesteryear,

His eyes – saw the miracle of life, and sleeping death held no fear or dominion,

His hair – every strand curled to form a heavenly glowing crown upon His head,

His message – it will live and sing longer than the executioner’s silent song,

His love – is the lyric of this life, it is life everlasting and in it lives our Lord.