That man should dwell in living hell
At the final hour thus tolls the bell
A life of pain from birth to death
Perpetually he sought his rest
Despite his search no rest he found
The abyss it pulled him to the ground
With all he gave and nothing left
It was then he felt the devil’s breath.
Tag: Life
-
-
The tormented wail.
Heavy tears of agony
Fall beneath the black veil.
The dead is carried
By horse and carriage.
A trail of sorrow follows
Behind in silent march.
The dark crow watches
From a distant perch.
Bitter cold wears
On the frailty of the old;
Their steps are slow,
And measured.
The hard frozen earth awaits.
As the lowering begins,
Red roses are thrown
From frail hands
With black gloves.
Freezing winds blow;
With tears and a final stare,
Cold and ashen faces
Slowly disappear. -
Jane Child – Don’t Wanna To Fall in Love
-
In narrow hallways
And unkempt rooms
Torment consumes;
Light is sought
But darkness restricts.
Pray and it will go away
They say,
Yet it still abounds.
Tears are shed
On sheetless beds,
But with weeping
There is no reprieve.
He had a dream
Of peaceful streams,
And of the day
He was relieved. -
Now you rest.
Eternally marked
Are the places they slept.
The hot summers
And cold winters
They endured,
But were forgotten
In death.
May roses grow
In the places they wept;
Weathered bodies,
Weary minds,
And heavy breaths.
You are memorialized.
Oh what pain to see
Life through your eyes:
The illness and affliction;
The cries.
Nameless no more
On that peaceful stream
With the dawn of
The morning sun
They rise —You are loved; you are thought of.
Behind the Scenes Photos on Hart Island, NYC’s Mass Burial Ground
-
My lovely Phyllis Hyman, you never got the credit you deserved. Your songs move me to deep emotion; your voice a soothing balm of healing and light. Oh, sweet Phyllis, how your presence touched the world! Through your voice you live on. A beautiful woman of deep passion and love you were! You will never be forgotten; your love, your joy, your pain, your hurt, the secrets of you, are weaved throughout your songs in wonderful array. Your lyrics are written upon the hearts of us who connected with your heart and soul. You are remembered.
Phyllis Hyman: July 6, 1949 – June 30, 1995
Phyllis Hyman – Walk Away
-
In my anxiety
I thought I had
Found an angel
On the day
You said that
You loved me,
But unbeknownst
To me
It had been
A work of trickery,
And the beginning
Of my misery. -
In our mother’s agony we were born.
In our own agony we live. -
The gangrenous stench of torment scorches the nostrils
The rotten carcasses of many souls lie
The ghastly scars of cirrhosis are evident to horrified eyes
Under a black moon the fires of agony viciously consume
They have been rejected by blood but cry no more
Leprous outcasts and wanderers with no home they are
They walk the road of hell in hopes of reaching heaven’s door
Injured souls seek to repair themselves;
The hideous scarring causes the earth to turn away and weep
The oceans well up with rising tides
Peace and a haven is unceasingly sought with tears and bloodshot eyes. -
Good morning to all.
J.S. Bach: Mass in B Minor
Intimate Compositions 