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Click hereAll around me stand the castles
Some are glass and some are sand
All the water floating round them
Has fallen from my bleeding hand
All the church bells have stopped their ringing
All the priests have gone away
But a choirboy is there still waiting
Will someone help him find the way
Along the watchtower I hear the voices
And they tell me the time has come
I drop the bloodstains and the pretense
I’ll never do what must be done
In the graveyard the tears are buried
They’re burning through the muddy ground
And there’s a bird there sweetly singing
To the choirboy that makes no sound
"I drop the bloodstains and the pretense
I’ll never do what must be done"
- I love that line, M; you can read so many different things into it; *that's* good poetry. Well done. Thank you for posting it.