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Clarion Heaven has to wait can’t make it tonight Your voice, a breathless sigh as a lone trumpet cries in nights haunting echoes Torrents of thoughts dance like marionettes to notes funneled down through tunnels of time Lost—not wanting to be found Diaphanous crimson shade trickles down the throat a wet tasteless solution absorbing both sin and purity as the body rocks rhythmically slow a gliding embrace O’ consecrated daughter, thy be Tempest by name, living on razors verge, mist mesmerized by purple grey swirl’s lusty roar’s hot breath Tumultuous power brushes passed the back step tears are shed in closets as prayers are uttered in room’s darkest corners With the speed of a whisper wraith comes stalking just— before the heavens part Brightest rays blaze down luminous streaks radiating rain’s prism a showing, a taste of Eternity |
Additional Notes:
This was written with April 16th in mind, for my family, my neighbors and my friends; as we had no warning before a tornado hit our area leaving many homeless, bruised, battered, childless and dead.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2011-05-07 11:03:11
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Lora, I cannot take a single line out, without piercing the continuity of the entire piece.
This is wonderfully, powerfully composed. It is impossible to read without gathering, as the tornado, the images of potency and destruction.
I know, watching on television and the internet- the power has an awesome beauty. I have only seen two in my life, but have been in four hurricanes. There is no image starker than the tremedous, unstoppable fury of a tornado.
This is a masterwork of those images. "Eternity", for those in such path, or the path alone, it is apropos.