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The Eclectic Pen - Thirteen O'Clock

By: Cathy F.  
Date Submitted: 2/19/2007
Words: 175

  It's thirteen o'clock.
How do I know?
A dove took off on wings of gold,
To a Faraway Place, no one knows.
A Palace of Jewels, Bright with Blood.
Covered with Salt, your Tears and Mine.
A film of Dust of Days Gone By, yet,
Stars, Diamonds, fall from the Sky.
Make no mistake,
It's Fool's Gold.
Just Pieces of glass all shiny and bright,
Though it Cuts just the same.
No one looks at the Newly Dead, just awoken,
So clean, so fresh,
Memories, still, of the life they knew.
Trying on their wings, gossamer light.
Filled with Hope.
Is it all Smoke and Mirrors?
How did it happen?
Hearts malfunctioned, motor dead.
Yet, they still bleed at the Palace gate.
A Mistake? Who knows for sure?
Those who enter rarely leave.
The gates clang shut.
Steel, Concrete,
Mortal Fear.
Praying to their only hope.
God, Dear God,
One more chance. Just one more.
There's no Place Like Home.
Promises, I'll keep, never fear.
Cast me out. Set me free.
And, Once upon a time in every Fairy Tale,
Blue skies. Golden Sunlight. Rainbows, so many Colours,
A Miracle Occurs,
And when it does,
The Dove takes off on wings of Gold.
It's Thirteen o'clock,
That's how I know.

The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by Cathy F.

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Comments 1 to 2 of 2
Dawne S. - 2/21/2007 6:22 AM ET
Jessica J. (RadioBrainAutoPoesy) - 2/24/2007 8:35 PM ET
i like
Comments 1 to 2 of 2