Pain Melting In Ire

The heart The fire The pain melting in ire The sigh The cry The winds that High Over the cliff edge Soared Up the face of the cliff rock Flared Tonight So many stars flare! Of many colors they dare But most be red And The moon stares. Yawn the graves Below Sigh The tombstones In the moon The skies The heavens The heights Deep sadness grows. The winds are wild And to each other Yell And the hard rocks The plains The plains that stretch And the ghosts by. Atmospheres Grotesque Yet All before Time, Lord Time They bend. The heart The fire The pain melting in ire The sigh The cry The verse is slow - and sad. This Verse allures Of Beauty raw these verses scent.