Home: Poetry: Ivy McKnight: Judgement
Pulling feathers from his back,
soft and white as snow,
we stand together in pale light,
watching the moon shine,
and the breeze blow,
to the end of eternity.
But the stars shine for heaven,
and not for a man,
who’s forsaken his master,
in search of an immortal,
one to bring hope,
one to bring shelter,
and relieve the pain of tears.
And his hair shines like fire,
and the wet grass,
is cold,
but I savor emotion,
so small as it is,
and everything’s beautiful,
to eyes who know death,
and that the end,
is near.
So here we both stand,
on a pedestal of light,
fending off madness,
and in the comfort of sameness,
we watch the world fall,
and the last feather drop,
and the breeze fade away,
for eternity.

All copyrights are acknowledged and those remain the property of the owners. Also these pages contain my opinions (unless otherwise specified), and thus, does not reflect the beliefs of others. The Garden of the Black Rose and its related pages are copyrighted (c)1998 by Ivy McKnight .