||[Jun. 24th, 2003|03:19 am]
|||||Trans-Siberian Ochestra - 06 - Beethoven's Last Night - What Is Eternal||]|
This was a response I wrote up to someone in pain,
and it seemed posting here too was an idea quite plain.
%$($(%*@&$ *sounds of struggle and fighting*
Sorry bout that it's a bit hard to get outta the mood sometimes
I assure you all now that I am currently just fine.
*head hits table*
*holds up finger*
anyways here it is
In a field of endless ground,
the grass lies dying, fallow and brown.
A little girl stands a tear in her eye,
for there is nothing to play in or lie.
A stranger walked by to see the sad sight,
and quickly strolled over offered a drink or a bite.
The girl replied no and instead said it was sad,
for a place with no color was endlessly bad.
The stranger stood up gazing to ponder,
how could this desolation be changed to a wonder.
He looked down again an eye alight with gleam,
and reached in a pocket barely held with a seem.
From this he pulled out a seed small and dull gray,
placed it upon the ground throwing dirt where it lay.
He turned to the girl lowered a small finger,
brushed the tear off her face and over the seed it lingered.
Then he spoke softly the tear fell and glistened,
the girl stood taller as she struggled to listen.
His words would stay with her as long as she lived,
though her heart flew and pounded as if going to give.
A flower like all living things on the wide earth,
needs water to grow and love to give birth.
Though know this forever and keep it to treasure,
each day you remember you can relish in pleasure,
that though pain and gloom can be seen in this endless doom,
Your tear will make room for great beauty to flower and bloom.