

Parenthood I look down at your cradle, and I worry for you…Parenthood by ~Morgoth-El
I worry for your safety. I see
Blood flowing like endless rivers.
I can see the shimmer of weapons.
I can see destruction.
I can smell the death.
I worry for your innocence. I see
Men lurking around dark corners.
I can see the glimmer in their eyes.
I can see their dark hearts.
I can hear you scream.
I worry for your future. I see
Letters flooding through the doorway.
I can see the bills and the demands.
I can see the pressure.
I can hear you cry.
I worry for your health. I see
Children ravaged beyond repair.
I can see diseases with no cure.
I can see the weakness.


Not On Our Doorstep Heavy footsteps crossing the border,Not On Our Doorstep by ~Morgoth-El
Weapons in hand.
It's not on our doorstep.
It's not our business.
Enterintg chambers, single file,
Children screaming.
It's not on our doorstep.
It's not our business.
Innocent women, battered and bruised,
Scorned, ill treated.
It's not on our doorstep.
It's not our business.
Warm, cavering lovers, hurt, reviled,
Beaten and killed.
It's not on our doorstep.
It's not our business.
Aeroplanes fly, striking the towers.
Flames, such chaos!
The world is our doorstep.
It was always our business.


Our Bit Like a field of crops, theseOur Bit by ~Morgoth-El
People spread.
Hungry, desperate,
Dieing.
The news reporter speaks,
Fresh, articulate,
Rich. Like a
God to these
People.
Something plucks at a heartstring.
I'll give some money. I'll buy the record.
Our conscience is clear.
We've done our bit.
We move on, like the news items do.
Something different now. The world still turns,
While the desert burns, these
Dieing people.
Our conscience is clear.
Isn't it?
Yes, we've done our bit.
Besides, the record is quite good.


The Grandfather Clock The pendulum stops,The Grandfather Clock by ~Morgoth-El
And starts again.
It is slower than it once was,
This old grandfather clock.
It has seen times unimaginable,
Sounds unthinkable,
History unknowable.
It sits there, that old grandfather clock,
And we hear it not. It's chime -
That old familiar chime -
Background noise.
One day, that pendulum will stop,
And it won't start again.
We'll miss it then,
That grandfather clock.
--
Forgive and forget, or remember and regret.
--
who thought they were only mad when Baltimore gleamed in supernatural ecstasy
who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the brilliant Spaniard to converse about America and Eternity
--
Light's craft; are you ready to bend light to your will?