The Sound of Lost Bells

What twists of fate could bind thou here, in a hopeless path of loss

Danger lurks here, to thrive in one’s fears; lost souls listen not to the bells

Where the lone wolf howls, and the night owl cries; to a music as dead as the reapers

What then call the lifeless man, who sits aloft a crumbling tower?

Innovation to a failing quest, to brave of heart and tongues of fresh

A whimpering coward to the east forever falls, only to rise again with the western sun

Cold through the night, and searing in the day; wave upon wave beats against the stolid rock face

Laughter jibe at the sorrow, fear test courage’s roots, rise and fall like the wind’s lyrics of time

Allow but one loss for a future beyond Nature’s binds; stare her down in the pit of Hell’s Gate

Sit not against the world’s blows, embrace her, and keep her; for she will not crumble so fast

Yet still in every edge of darkness, does danger lurk here; and the lost souls listen not to the bells

This poem is about: 
Our world


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