Sorrow

the sweet smell of the great sorrow lies over the land
plumes of smoke rise and merge into the leaden sky:
a man lies and dreams of green fields and rivers,
but awakes to a morning with no reason for waken

he's haunted by the memory of a lost paradise
in his youth or a dream, he can't be precise
he's chained forever to a world that's departed
it's not enough, it's not enough

his blood has frozen & curdled with fright
his knees have trempled & given way in the night
his hand has weakend at the moment of truth
his step has flatered

    one world, one soul
    time pass, the river roll

and he talks to the river of lost love and dedication
and silent replies that swirl invitaion
flow dark and troubled to an oily sea
a grim intimation of what is to be

there's an unceasing wind that blows through this night
and there's dust in my eyes, that blinds my sight
and silence that speaks so much louder than words,
of promises broken.