Breathing Bells
Church bells tolling through the night
One man bleeding out of sight
No one heard the shots ring out
First, second, third; not a single shout
Innocent blood spilled on holy ground
The sky is filled with only a shroud
God's so close, yet so far away
For this man He chose to take today
The bells toll again; it is now midnight
The man counts ten, then breathes his final goodnight
Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.
Unknown Source
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Conspiracy | 0 | 04/05/2010 |
| What Do Souls See | 0 | 04/05/2010 |
| Silent Screams | 0 | 04/05/2010 |
| A Hollywood Horror | 0 | 04/05/2010 |
| My Heart | 1 | 04/05/2010 |
| Hardships and Heartbreaks | 0 | 03/20/2010 |
| Splinters | 1 | 03/20/2010 |
| The Breakup | 1 | 03/20/2010 |
| Breathing Bells | 0 | 03/20/2010 |
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