Bring Down the Days

A gentle sleeping giant
Dreams in black and white and red
And feels dead inside the sun
Like some that wait for turns
To tell the world what no one
Wants to hear

So bring down the days of open books

Colorless men close doors to those
Creatures who ache to be seen
And scream in torture for terrible things
Will only end when the river runs
Clear and clean

So bring down the days of broken glass

Silent sparrows that look like loons
Are doomed to wait on those
Dead ducks that dive and bury
What's left in the depths of despair.
They care even less then
You are aware

So bring down the days of empty chairs

Dry blades of grass in the call
Of the wind will bend
But not break
And when it's the end
It's the end

So bring down the days of marking grades

The thinker is posed
Positioned for prank by a horse
On his trail. The equestrian saint
Is pulled by his reins
But knows not his name
Unwilling to fail

So bring down the days of ending games