-
In the depths of the abyss called night plays a figure.
Dressed in a suit worn at funerals, cloaked in black, looking so sinister.
It sits down, proping itself on a random seat.
It moves its hands, creating a sorrowful symphony.
The figure moves through the night, as its music follows.
Occasionally stopping, i think it's heart has been made hollow.
This figure, what could it be?
As it starts off again, all i hear... is a sorrowful syphony.
All around it things are worn out, crumbling and decaying.
The figure walks floats through the wasteland of forgotten praying.
Where people have their eyes shut praying for sight, for they cannot see.
They cannot see with their eyes shut, but they can hear,the sorrowful syphony
The figure i see is neither man nor women.
It is the shadow cast on itself, seeing no expressions.
It has no mouth, but it begs you to sit and listen.
It doesn't say a word, but teaches life lessons.
It is....... The Sorrowful Syphony, played on a broken piano.
- by Bye-Bye-Crow |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 08/03/2009 |
- Skip
![](https://graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/arena-images/ic_paper_corner_32x32.gif)
- Title: Figure. . .
- Artist: Bye-Bye-Crow
-
Description:
The figure....
Call it what you will, a ghost, phantom, evil, good, girl, or boy.
But remember, you may be this figure one day, doomed to be forever outcast and alone. - Date: 08/03/2009
- Tags: figure alone sorrowful
- Report Post
Comments (2 Comments)
- Ammiel Azarel - 02/07/2010
- Great poem and good use of imagery. I give you a 5/5 but next time spell check a little better. you spelled symphony, syphony a couple of times.
- Report As Spam
- Suicidal-RagDoll - 08/05/2009
- Fantastic
- Report As Spam