by scott from jail

When every part of nothing falls to less
And every scream of torture is unstilled,
When wounds which now unloose the night are chilled
Into a potion or a woman's dress -
When every child of pain in tearful sighs
Escapes somehow the slaver's sinking smile
The clocks of Europe slowed meanwhile
By lilting laughs and over-cooked goodbyes -
When all this cold and supervising sky
Of greying wolves and paralyzing greed
Gives off the word of God to those in need
And lifts the lid off pots gone so awry -
   Then may the cross of Calvary in white
   Illuminate this dark and wicked night.

Copyright © 2011 - scott from jail
Published: 8/18/11   ·  Author's Page   ·  Next Poem