Rainbows mourn to Thorn..


There inside a silver chalice.. image comes alive..

As before an image of dream danced love and jive..

History a knowledge those burn books.. sell needed food..

Burners camp upriver from your little town.. your brood..

Wicked laughter as a demon.. flicker of a face..  takes your ticket ever-after summons dream and space..

Lines of finds he binds your kind with dreams he cannot do.. set in his delusion.. excuses robbing you..

Truth a hawk to confusion.. runs a maze set sunny morn..

Path forefathers set.. love fashions from each thorn..


What is fated.. what created.. image ever glows.. what is love.. old young.. or stated.. precious shared one knows..

Peace Tony



About cryinforthedyin

I write philosophy and poetry. I postulate solutions for problems..I find similiar things in history to compare to present day, hoping to find a solution to the seemingly difficult task of giving and receiving love. I play music. Blues harp, piano, guitar, electric and acoustic. I sing..I love to sing..Peace Tony
This entry was posted in ACLU, Amnesty International, ASCAP (American Society of Composers Authors and Publishers, California, City Life, Dance, Energy, Freedom, Honor, Human Behavior, Human Rights, Humor, Music, New York, On Line Writing, Peace on Earth, Psychology, Song Writers Guild of America and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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