Richard Allen Beevor
The Fall Of Eden - Poem by Richard Allen Beevor
Really feel I need to liaise,
mind is spinning, brain in a daze,
something crawling in my head
has me rushing to my bed.
Time is tight and on its uppers,
called the Chinese for midnight suppers,
got so much to be relayed,
should have waited or even stayed.
Questions falling hit the floor,
the crowd are bursting through the door,
fed them all with chicken wings,
singing vows and wedding rings.
Bring my book and read some pages,
outside snow and war rages,
call the moment to a flyer,
up the gas and burn the fryer.
See me here starting to sink,
perhaps this rhyme's inspired by drink
but sober thought has oft been lost
to the shore on waves are tossed.
Up aloft the birds are singing,
across the universe it's ringing,
Mr Dylan has homesick blues,
Mr P in his blue suede shoes.
Light my years such tender youth,
swinging London never in truth,
days now passed the gates are calling,
down the years all hope is falling.
Twisted lies of so called friends
destroy a dream where wishes end
in the charnel pits of hell,
still looking back for that bell.
You worship moments long forgotten,
the seal of promise its heart just rotten,
blast those doors at which we gather,
you think your truth will really matter.
Slide on through nights we get by on,
holes of black surround Orion.
Scheming, dreaming all life away,
dance of the dawn lights a new day.
Take this chalice from my lips
bloodied by the metal whips,
angels sing of god on high,
tis time now come and death is nigh.
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