Blood Of A Moth, Tears Of The Wordl 07/23/08
By Devin Kruljac Truessence
I've stepped on a Moth and cried because of it,
But no tears have I shed for a lone, dead, stranger of a soldier.
For my eyes rain for the Spirits of the Innocent and for great loss,
As well as the Pools of Blood beneath them.
And when the tears of the Silent befallen into those pools,
Tears more clear and more pure than any ocean current,
All that is left,
Will the World cry for their loss?
Will the Tears dilute the Blood to the point where,
We can see the reflections of our souls as we mourn?
Will the Pools of Blood whisper to us,
As if to ask...
Why cry when we are the cause?
And when Our Rain rids those Pools of Red,
Will we find Our Only Answer.
We cry in hopes to change this world,
To change us,
So the Blood of the Innocent and the Tears of those who mourn,
Evaporate into the sun-lit sky.
So the only Rain there is to see,
Are the tears of happiness and forgiveness from the clouds,
And the only Red there is to see,
Is the bright, translucent red of the Rainbow,
Left behind from the tears we shed,
So we may look toward a better Tomorrow.
I saw a Moth fly across the sun today.
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