THE SONG OF STONES
The song of stones
that sung at the top of the mountain hit by blizzard
taking away its warm breath to catacombs of frozen hell
in a strange lilt that made it lose it beautiful demeanour
transforming stones to irregular peaks piercing the sky
prompting the sun which was to warm the soul of the song
run away
as the music tried to coax the stones in the quest of making them precious
They remained jagged and ugly in stature
outcropped in a disturbing appearance in the garden of harmony
so it called the moon in a swooning lyrical voice to reflect a ray of the sun
for the stones to see the song of beauty with their enlightened ears
but the moon was new from its usual shimmering enchantment
as it embraced the proud darkness
helpless was the tune in its ailing strength
which was bored creativity in the debris of doubt
...and the night grew weary inviting the orange skies
when it tuned to the organ it found it dead for rhythms
it voice was gone and skills of dance were a frozen wind
the sacredness of it music had ran away from the temple of the soul
the song of stone in frustration carved itself into an arrogant statue
rendering its precious power of thawing a frozen heart futile
but a forgotten symphony was vital for the wonder of time
a symphony that create the precise perfection of crystals
in the song of stone that wields miracles of impossibilities
that sung at the top of the mountain hit by blizzard
taking away its warm breath to catacombs of frozen hell
in a strange lilt that made it lose it beautiful demeanour
transforming stones to irregular peaks piercing the sky
prompting the sun which was to warm the soul of the song
run away
as the music tried to coax the stones in the quest of making them precious
They remained jagged and ugly in stature
outcropped in a disturbing appearance in the garden of harmony
so it called the moon in a swooning lyrical voice to reflect a ray of the sun
for the stones to see the song of beauty with their enlightened ears
but the moon was new from its usual shimmering enchantment
as it embraced the proud darkness
helpless was the tune in its ailing strength
which was bored creativity in the debris of doubt
...and the night grew weary inviting the orange skies
when it tuned to the organ it found it dead for rhythms
it voice was gone and skills of dance were a frozen wind
the sacredness of it music had ran away from the temple of the soul
the song of stone in frustration carved itself into an arrogant statue
rendering its precious power of thawing a frozen heart futile
but a forgotten symphony was vital for the wonder of time
a symphony that create the precise perfection of crystals
in the song of stone that wields miracles of impossibilities
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