Meaningless (the lament of the athiests wife)

dusk settles on your sun browned hands, washing them from sight,
eyes stormy gray and ocean blue, gleam in the failing light,
your chest is still, and not a single breath escapes your lips,
frequently the breeze will stir you with her fingertips,
the shadows playing with your features bring you back to life,
It seems that you are smiling, for a moment it's alright,
they creep away and leave you dead, a corpse, so still, so warm,
and all my love and all my life, lie empty in my arms,
the heart I poured my life into, no longer beats for me,
the hands you poured your soul into hold naught but memories.
Time has stopped for you forever, yet still drags me along,
my life is empty, meaningless, with you forever gone.

Footprints

Every day she comes to you
and kneels by the stone,
the cold hard stone that marks the place,
where you sleep alone.
she brushes snow from off your grave,
and lays a soft red rose,
at the foot of your frozen bed
were the chill wind blows.
So soft it's petals shun the sky,
the blackened sky of dread,
so beautiful and yet, so shy,
it lingers on your bed,
it's crimson fragrance bleeds so soft,
upon the gray and brown,
even in the winters chill,
the color lights the ground
Tears of crystal shine like stars
upon its crimson lips,
set alight and glowing bright,
by the dancing moon eclipse.
standing up she walks away,
her foot falls becoming slow,
she turns and her eyes alight upon
her footprints in the snow.
and were upon her feet did tread,
the ground is set a glow,
with beautiful flowers of crimson red,
pushing through the crystal snow.

Chasm Between

In-the-chasm between life and death,
a thousand souls lay dying,
many have not long to live,
Some given up from trying.
A thousand souls of children who
are taking their last breath,
and passing through the narrow gap,
Between life and death.
While we live in luxury,
children breathe they’re last,
for we did not look out our doors,
or see our stark contrast.
We did not realize their need,
though we saw it everywhere,
TV showed the children pleading,
for our love that wasn’t there.
Silently they’re passing on,
without a helping hand,
how many strong words will it take,
to help us understand?
I heard about a long lost bridge,
a bridge across forever,
and we’ll find it when our life is done,
the connection here will sever.
And when we reach the other side,
and the bell tolls judgment day,
when we stand before our Lord and King,
will we hear Him say,
“Depart from me, you cursed, into eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels,
For I was hungry and you gave me no food,
I was thirsty and you gave me no drink,
I was a stranger and you did not welcome me,
Naked and you did not clothe me,
Sick and in prison and did not visit me.”

Then they will also answer, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry
Or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison
And did not minister to you?’ Then he will answer them saying,
“Truly I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these,
You did not do it to me.”
And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous
Into eternal life.

Matthew 25: 41-46

The Legend Of The Rose

Beneath a sky of amber red,
a weary maiden made her bed,
amongst the beautiful flowers
in a lonely meadows arms.
Like mist of jade, her dress was made,
material that would not fade,
amongst the beautiful flowers
in a lonely meadows arms.
Her lashes long, her body strong,
but this fair maid did not belong,
amongst the beautiful flowers
in a lonely meadows arms.
Her hair like waves fell down her back,
across her brow, a sea of black,
amongst the beautiful flowers
in a lonely meadows arms.
With sea green eyes she looked around,
then sat herself upon the ground,
amongst the beautiful flowers
in a lonely meadows arms.
She sang a song with heavy heart,
of how her love was torn apart,
amongst the beautiful flowers
in a lonely meadows arms.
Hidden in the shadowed trees,
a hateful man knelt on his knees
anger burned his very marrow,
as he drew a feathered arrow.
He listened to yon maiden sing,
as he fit it to the string,
his expression dark and grim,
for he knew she sung of him.
He let his feathered arrow fly,
and hit her just above the thigh.
His anger would now be appeased,
and he left the meadow feeling pleased.
Fearlessly the maid looked down,
and watched her blood soak through her gown,
and stain the beautiful flowers
in the lonely meadows arms.
Upon the ground she lay her head,
and knew the one who pierced her fled
from amongst the beautiful flowers,
in the lonely meadows arms.
One crystal tear was all she cried,
then this fair young maiden died,
amongst the beautiful flowers
in the lonely meadows arms.
Never was her body found,
though she was looked for all around
amongst the beautiful flowers,
in the lonely meadows arms.
Only the crimson flower knows,
her memory lingers in the rose,
they grow amongst the flowers,
in the lonely meadows arms.
They are her blood, her memory,
farther than the eye can see,
the most beautiful flowers
in the lonely meadows arms.
They grow in grace, to hide her face,
her wondrous beauty they embrace,
amongst the fading flowers,
in the lonely meadows arms.
Her endless sorrow well compose,
amongst her graceful crimson rose.

Overtaken

Gold and gray, the clouds of even spill across the sky,
much lighter that the content of my heart,
I search for You within myself and find I have run dry,
for where I am it seems that You are not.
Wind tumbles across the dancing fields in its haste to no where,
And I’m tripping right along and close behind,
On this wild goose chase I feel I lost you somewhere,
Back within a corner of my mind.
An storm, untamed, unchecked, and strong, wildly draws nigh,
Entwining me in its cruel, cold embrace,
I’m on my knees and screaming for you not to let me die,
Fighting for a peaceful open space.
Its fury feels like a monster snapping closed its jaws,
It’s wild eyes so cruel and so keen,
It throws me down and crushes me beneath its jagged paws,
The raging storm has overtaken me.

Scattered Dreams

Thin walls surround my scattered dreams,
Enclosing them, and building them,
But just before they reach their height,
The wind again, to shatter them.
So weary bend my back again,
Enclosing them, and building them,
Then the strong wind comes again,
I sadly watch them fall again,
To weak to build the wall again,
To dust they turn, they blow away
In years I will recall again,
The battered dreams of yesterday.