The Fruit of the Fallen
By Eisen
The soft fall of the rain
and the scent of the air,
these are
the things that I love.
Removed from the sounds of the road
lies the pond.
The pond and the frogs, the rain and the stars,
these are the things that I love.
What more to do than to
sit and to be,
in this wonderful place that I love...
My
wars shall go on,
and I'll fight to the last,
I've killed many
a man for a pond.
The blood and the sweat,
the stench
of decay,
these are the things that I love.
My pond was
won with blood.
What more to do than to look at the stars,
laugh with the stars,
what more to do than to make love
on the grass,
the benevolent grass.
Though each blade reminds
me of one of the fallen -
some of the blood,
I'll make love
in my grass, my home and my rain.
And underneath my star, I
shall rest,
benevolent rest,
for these are the things that I
love.
Author's Note:
I wrote this outside...Comments on "The Fruit of the Fallen"
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A former member wrote:
There was once a field, the third i'd known. One chair sat in the middle. When it rained the Sometimes Pond appeared, designed by those same frogs and dragonflies of every hue, picked at by red and blue birds whose nests were picked at by my Hawks. The Clockwork Deer ran the pack, answering only to the coyote. I've rarely felt so alive.
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On Monday, March 11, 2013, Killerdemonchick
(53) wrote:
Wow this is truly amazing. Thankyou for sharing this beautiful peice