Stair Rods From Hell… storms I and II

The Black Umbrella (pt1 + 2)

(1)
You danced on my grave as the heavenly nails fell

with impudence on my belated shell

my final relief from earth’s own natural disbelief

stair-rods from the skies hammering at my demise in grief…

My only protection from natures warning

a solitary black hexagonal awning

held by fingers frozen in time

awaiting the sating to the divine…

The solitary floods of tears are from above

buried in a storm of unrequited love

drowning in sorrow felt for oneself

now in death as was in health…

(2)

Clouds dark as haematite, swirling above
filled with visions of long lost loves
captured in the moment of lightning strike
jagged perversion hits with voltage spike
filling the sky with momentary dread
giving life to that that is dead…

a wake then awake I rise
black umbrella hiding forboding skies
entrusted but encrusted in ancient soil
to bring forth new life to seek and embroil
in the arguments of time past and present
to seek the decree of life effervescent…

righting the wrongs of intricate pasts
bringing light to shadows banished at last
throwing away the shackles of once being
new life a glowing and now all seeing
from the depths of this grave I now can see
all things, all wisdom, sagely knowingly…
sun now evokes life to those who have chose
as the rain ceases, the umbrella can now close…

…