A Greater Sound By Far - I Was Not Told (chapter 4) by Skylar Burris
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Sonnets, ballads, couplets, ottava rima, haiku, and unbound free verse . . . you'll find it all in this diverse collection of poetry. If you have ever wrestled with faith, felt the ache or joy of love, or witnessed the death of someone close to you, these poems will offer you a chance for reflection, inspiration, and solace. For the complete book, visit www.editorskylar.com.
chapters
chapter 1:
Imprint
chapter 2:
Silent Stains
chapter 3:
Thirst
chapter 4:
I Was Not Told
I Was Not Told
chapter 4
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updated Apr 27, 2008
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1084 characters
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4 people liked this writing
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3 reviews of this writing
Fated footsteps brought me to a passing party
As the moon began to fade beneath a cloud
Where voices echoed loud
Amid the pounding rhythms.
And there I felt the lacking
Override the mind, beset the head,
And the emptiness, the awful dread,
Once well-sung by J. Alfred.
Drawn in by surface laughter,
I joined the formless crowd
Where voices echoed loud
And I spoke to one,
With cosmetic conversation
And superficial scintillation.
Important words sprang to my tongue,
I swallowed each and every one.
Would it be worth the rising fear,
The hesitation, surmounted by the hope,
The glimmer, the chance to share,
If he, leaning upon his chair,
Should break into a spiteful sneer
And offer me another beer?
I swallowed, all went unsaid,
And Lazarus remained quite dead.
And back into his chair he sat,
And I smiled for awhile,
Until the moment passed.
And how will it lie on me,
How will the censure fall,
If on that final day,
When earth and sky both fade away,
Each could to the Just Judge say--
I was not told,
I was not told at all?
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As the moon began to fade beneath a cloud
Where voices echoed loud
Amid the pounding rhythms.
And there I felt the lacking
Override the mind, beset the head,
And the emptiness, the awful dread,
Once well-sung by J. Alfred.
Drawn in by surface laughter,
I joined the formless crowd
Where voices echoed loud
And I spoke to one,
With cosmetic conversation
And superficial scintillation.
Important words sprang to my tongue,
I swallowed each and every one.
Would it be worth the rising fear,
The hesitation, surmounted by the hope,
The glimmer, the chance to share,
If he, leaning upon his chair,
Should break into a spiteful sneer
And offer me another beer?
I swallowed, all went unsaid,
And Lazarus remained quite dead.
And back into his chair he sat,
And I smiled for awhile,
Until the moment passed.
And how will it lie on me,
How will the censure fall,
If on that final day,
When earth and sky both fade away,
Each could to the Just Judge say--
I was not told,
I was not told at all?
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