Sculpted Sorrow

Existence,twisted into twirling repetitions

there ain't no hate without pain

the collapsible spiral of time

a perpetual reminder

that the doors of perception open but in vain

And all those days,bleak,lifeless

left to sink,into the swamps of memories

a dull clouded sky for a tomorrow now dims

the velvet spark of the sun now betrays

these forsaken sculptures of sorrow

and the angel now stand with a rose in her hands

a perpetual reminder of hope

the rain has washed away her once artistic face

the rusted chisel rendered useless

the rose now stained with the blood of ignorance

and withers away in the winds of the fall

A sweet melody whispers,the assurance of what is to come?

the gust of wind deafening,throws open the cemetery gates

You are alive now,you will feel all the pain

these sculptures sacred,but you're still profane