A dazzling diamond's spirited sparkle in the corner of the eye
Adds flavor to the tender tempered passion in a smile
A million men may walk a million miles to beat life tainted trial
Without ever finding the smile which enticed them to travel
so many cold and lonely miles
The rains came the same to bring a change to the sane
For the sane know not the pain of drowning in spring rain
Sickness sickens the strong for even the strong have gone too long
Under night skies with bleeding smiles and crying eyes awaiting dawn
She sings softly summoning surreal serpents from the mist
While echoing loons call to the moon and drunk men swoon in bliss
Mysteries awash from the seas on tides of thoughtless regret
Cause grown men to sigh and cry at night for what they'll never get
In these trees far from the seas deep in the forest of dark despair
Dead birds sing while dead men bleed and evil chokes the air
In the darkest corner a forgotten mourner silently sits and waits
For the proper time and the proper rhyme to create the magic he makes
All the while echoing loons call to the moon and high men swoon in bliss
While vagabonds and homeless souls who know they're never missed
Scrape the ground looking all around for another rock of Bill Clint's piss
The dancing lights are quick to fright and plague the children's dreams
But what dreams mean a thing if they cease to be once the children learn to see?
Still demons of the forgotten underground fell at the sound of what you and I found
While grown men hide in darkness' shroud from the demons
their screams echo loud
Moving mysteries of the moon make millions of men seek death
While those still alive claw out our own eyes searching for what is left
But what is there to see, to be, and to miss?
Just echoing loons who call to the moon
As we dead men swoon in bliss...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem