M.A. Wood

Why do you damn me Fates?
Curse me to live unloved?
Am I so unworthy?
Are the Gods so heartless?
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As The days pass by,
And the kids ride painted horses,
Families smile again,
Remember the memories,
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The moon,
Her stars,
Chase thee Sun away,
Bring forth the night,
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How can my face turn away the shadows,
How can my face turn away the beasts,
The phantoms,
The shades of the past set before me,
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Heavens falling,
Though Hell is rising,
The wandering stranger,
Brings to light,
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I stood outside the window,
Watching as you cried yourself to sleep,
I know what I did was wrong,
I know what I did caused you pain,
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Her voice rang through eternity, A life of loneliness,
Echoing through the ages of men.
It rang clear,
The voice of pain,
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What good is her voice,
Her voice like the wind,
When I can not hear it?
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Now the time has come for socializing,
Cheers of hooray and hooray in the air,
The Ivory Lady in this visage,
Awaiting her knight of civility,
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He sat by the window,
He knew that he would never see her,
Or, at least, she him,
So he just sat there,
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In the north,
I knew a fine white lass,
But down south, they were cold as ice to me.
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Look at this world,
What can you,
We,
All of us do,
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A building, a flaw, a war of so much dismay,
The vine which climbs, chokes the fateful sorrow,
The blast, the cannon, the dreadful black machines,
Striking, hitting, the walls do crumble,
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Here upon the ground do I lie,
The hint of death upon my eye,
No longer can I see,
The man I used to be;
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