Anarchistbanjo's Page

The dying sun sheds crimson gloom
Across the sullen bay
The witch-wind howls through naked trees
And lashes ocean spray
Down a darkened stoney trail
A traveller makes his way


A tattered cloak hides mighty thews
Wind swept hair veils eyes
But tear drops glisten on his face
His gaze on scarlet skies
A muffled sob, a shattered dream
The bleeding sun, it dies


Other dreams have gone before
But this one hurts the most
His golden angel shining bright
Is but a fragile broken ghost
Pain gleaming in his eyes
He walks alone along the coast


He stops to gaze around him
To smell the keen salt air
And glories at the twilight
As the wind whips through his hair
Standing tall against the night
A fortress resting there


The silver moon rides soft and slow
It's light burns bright and clear
Moon beams dance among the leaves
And shyly hover near
They play upon his lonely face
And touch a glistening tear


They stroke his rough unshaven cheeks
And kiss his fevered lips
Along his strong and hardened chest
A gentle finger slips
Another's playing in his eyes
Where crystal water drips


Bringing peace on wings of love
To the traveller in their light
They set his soul aflame with dreams
And now his eyes glow bright
As he sings a song against the wind
And strides into the night