Notes swim in a void,
a dismantled chorus
seeking a writer to join
them to melody.
Death ended the song
before it could be written.
Yet the sky winks at
each mother’s child
searching for an electric prodigy
to pull magic from
strings.
Pale riders on the storm hold
wickless candles chanting “light my fire”
hoping faith will resurrect a voice
from an era where love wore flowers
and lips were brazen enough to speak truth.
Where do the lost go
when the music’s over?
A grave holds the poet
buried in his prophesies
while the world continues
spinning around in electronic noise.
©Susie Clevenger 2013
Written for Real Toads Sunday Mini Challenge ~ Jim Morrison
Comments
We can wait on the birth, babe. We're it. Keep writing.
The way you have worked the lines from the songs into this is seamless and perfect, never sacrificing flow or meaning. I don't think this challenge could be met any better.
@Wanda, thank you
@Robyn, Yes it is sad. We don't have anyone like him today.
@Sam, thank you
@manicdaily, thanks so much
@Marian, that is for sure
@Fireblossom, thank you so much. I struggled with my own challenge to speak something worthy of Morrison.
The new prompt is up its a free share
Beautiful and haunting
:D
Lovely writing, lovely. :))