Francois Bergh
where lost words come to rest in pieces…Archive for Music
Aftermath
Astronomers will see our stars
Where we have left them in the sky -
They’ll map and name and catalogue
And some may even wonder why…
Archaeologists will find
The relics we had built in time -
For years they’ll labor to translate
The subtleties we had created…
Scientists will claim our thoughts
With newly found technologies -
They’ll find the flaws amid our thinking
And amend their future laws…
Psychologists will hold our minds
And come afore with explanations -
They will put us in a box
Yet never will they understand…
We’re the ones who hold the key
That can unlock our reckoning -
Deep within we must resolve
This ample mess we left behind…
And for the audio-philes:
The quiet trees
The quiet trees are everywhere,
They’re always listening -
Observing as the days go by;
Their words contained within…
Untouched by time they stand alone
Through sun and wind and rain -
They’re ancient as the memories
That blend into their pain…
Tacit are the gentle giants,
Unaware of human strife -
These guardians of purity
Preserve our way of life…
Never may they be forgotten
Or abandoned by the world -
Hold on to our heritage;
Their stories must be told…
And for the audio-philes:
Soundly
Sleep soundly my dear
When you lie down tonight -
Make whispers in dreams
To your spirit’s delight…
Be safe in a world
Filled with promise and light -
May the evening bells
Carry you through the night…
In breath be released
As you shake off your plight -
Make peace and believe
Everything’s still allright…
Take off to the stars
Where I’ll wait to unite -
With welcoming arms
Begging you to take flight…
And for the audio-philes:
Black Sun
Black sun – rise,
Consume the skies -
You dawn the day
With empty lies…
Black sun – noon,
Dispense your doom -
Defile my soul
And end it soon…
Black sun – set,
You won this bet -
You took from me
What I covet…
Black sun – death,
Through moon bequeath -
Your taunts remain
From your last breath…
And for the audio-philes:
Lingering…
To linger in your eyes;
A well of youth – I’m drinking -
For once not even thinking
Of farewells or goodbyes…
Forever is the timing;
The keeper of these moments -
For come whatever omens,
These bells will keep on chiming…
Blessed are the free;
The ones whom time won’t chase
For endless rushing haste
They will not ever see…
So linger ever more;
In time it all will pass -
For then – I know, at last,
I’ll venture through your door…
And for the audio-philes:
