Willing Wings To Cherish
Apocalyptic tales- our stories like a beast it bites, benignant eyes of flickering candles in gray minds kisses the heart and dies-
The job of anyone, the burnt out, like clouds in the silent heaven, the chains lengthens behind it drags-on, life is the substance of children at play
The trees that are stag's antlers, the same that fixed the stars and altered there values to silver and dust, as to truths so perfect
The souls of men like the walls of great seas live there life like creatures in walls of pain they up cast wings of the souls of light uplifting to stony peaks
The souls startled into astonishment deprive themselves forever and forever are assumed to last as our illustrations, proof so briefly
We who are assembly have sentiments, for the rest not the foregoing of the wall of time now constituted memory to compare the moments
There was a wall of digression; one of the outcast, the outset of time to state our inquiry of that moment or notion so solemn assured within us
In the walls we are not deceived, our interest are things- our moments bearing and attempting to the point of question of being
Opinions like hunger being persuaded by special matters, speaking to our minds holding hands, no one can say speaking but invocations bidden
Walls openings and possibilities deserves, stones for admitting and here arise no further- wings emotions pass over head
The words willing come form the walls from my own experiences, I can at least say, the willing wings to cherish the hope and promise
by Timothy Dougherty
