Your Poetry Dot Com - Dear Dying Apathia

Array ( [sid] => 36893 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Dear Dying Apathia [time] => 2004-03-01 08:54:45 [hometext] => To the last remains [bodytext] => Let it not be done the way it was soon
Let not many grow ever more wary
From your great flights of fancy came the last day dancing
Send not your hordes upon our little swords
Give us not this day for our daily bread
But take off forward under the light of the failing sun
Dear Dying Apathia
Have a heart for the many fallen corses at your feet
Feel the land trembling under ever ceasing madness
Grow us onto ourselves for we shall overcome
Go to your last day's night with not our future sight
Behold us the foulest lands greatest cry
Be not surprised when we take to the skies
For we that despise our hours before sunrise
Dear Dying Apathia
Take us our last great deceit for when we lay at your feet
Never mind our begging but be quick at your ending
You foulest beast give us heed at your bequest
The rest is just near jest at the feet of your dying request
We seek your end and befall to send what is to mend
Go forward to your horrid and speak lightly to him
Never show the light again that we may be blinded by its splendor
For we have the might for the right to fight the night at its greatest height
Dear Dying Apathia a long time we never see you

[comments] => 1 [counter] => 198 [topic] => 49 [informant] => geoffreyalanbest [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => mystical ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Dear Dying Apathia

Dear Dying Apathia
Date: Monday, 1st March 2004 @ 08:54:45 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: geoffreyalanbest

Let it not be done the way it was soon
Let not many grow ever more wary
From your great flights of fancy came the last day dancing
Send not your hordes upon our little swords
Give us not this day for our daily bread
But take off forward under the light of the failing sun
Dear Dying Apathia
Have a heart for the many fallen corses at your feet
Feel the land trembling under ever ceasing madness
Grow us onto ourselves for we shall overcome
Go to your last day's night with not our future sight
Behold us the foulest lands greatest cry
Be not surprised when we take to the skies
For we that despise our hours before sunrise
Dear Dying Apathia
Take us our last great deceit for when we lay at your feet
Never mind our begging but be quick at your ending
You foulest beast give us heed at your bequest
The rest is just near jest at the feet of your dying request
We seek your end and befall to send what is to mend
Go forward to your horrid and speak lightly to him
Never show the light again that we may be blinded by its splendor
For we have the might for the right to fight the night at its greatest height
Dear Dying Apathia a long time we never see you

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