übersetzen   8 Jahre

So Wanted. So wanted. So wanted to fill a great and brittle need. A need that began with the browning and brit'ling of leaves and the moaning and whistl'ing fell herald of winter that sent them high flying above the trees. So weary from shielding and furring myself to ward off the spectre of ice on my flesh. Unnatural chills fall upon me as the Sun, he bound in manacles, lay. I stare through the dim, gray, and angular deadscape and strain to recall any different day. It is all so far, far away. The gates of my mind are corrupted and fey, are crusted and rusted, neglected, decayed. All memory of #life brought to morose display. Alas! The sky, black to gray, in gradient splayed. Like swift cavalry of fire-bred steeds spread across the horizon, cresting the hill. A cry in my heart sang for awe, for dismay. The return of the King! A crimson spark split old night into day! But something else fades: into color and light, banishing gray! Through the welling it sparkles and swims in my eyes. And a swelling of recall of #life and it cries: Oh! Green! There is green! Oh! The goodness is seen! Though still chill the air, kindled is warmth, new and clean. The hope felt in that hue! In those sprigs, buds, and shoots payment for all ill accrued. I now smell in the dew: Fresh Spring is renewed! © 2013, David Anthony. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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