Every song must end

Sad spirit slowly dying,
in void of raw, dark grit,
the Bodhisattva crying;
reflected, pulsing grief.

Every song must end,
each note at last to stop,
music slowly wends;
nails define the cross.

Parasites were rising,
at dusk deceiving all,
legerdemain surprising;
hope does faintly call.

http://redwolfpoems.wordpress.com/2014/11/20/we-wordle-31/







grit – Debi Swim (poem 1)
spirit – Debi Swim (poem 2)
dying – JulesPaige
parasites – kaykuala h
void – Misky
raw – Hannah Gosselin
legerdemain – Barbara
Bodhisattva – Irene (poem 1)
reflected – Purple in Portland
pulsing – Irene (poem 2)
dusk – Baste