Photo - Glastonbury UK 2010, Chalice Well Gardens

Only Statues Weeping

My heart is a rock
And my eyes are ice
Sadness fills my days
Emptiness my nights
I sit alone
Untouched by life
Unmoved by the play
The sounds and sights

I don’t want to be here
There’s nothing to see here
Only shadows sleeping

I don’t want to be here
There’s nothing to see here
Only statues weeping

There’s a raging fire
Just not in me
An abandoned twig
On untamed sea
Pleasure’s just a word
Laughter a joke
I try to smile
But find I choke

I don’t want to be here
There’s nothing to see here
Only shadows sleeping

I don’t want to be here
There’s nothing to see here
Only statues weeping

I fill up my hours
With mindless waste
Nurse my aching need
To depart post haste
The road ahead is blocked
And I’m just stuck
A mouse in a wheel
Getting nowhere fast

I don’t want to be here
There’s nothing to see here
Only shadows sleeping

I don’t want to be here
There’s nothing to see here
Only statues weeping

I don’t want to be here
There’s nothing to see here
Only shadows sleeping

I don’t want to be here
There’s nothing to see here
Only statues weeping

Only statues weeping

 
Listen to the song

© AM Hunter November 2018

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Stoneacorn (Xander)

These songs, poems, and reflections offer an insight to who I am and are my autobiography. I am a poet, a song writer, a witch. I dance my Wyrd in my practice; in how I choose to live; in who I share my moments with. My heart is black, white, grey and purple like the stone beneath my feet, the bones of Grandfather Green. My eyes contain her Stars and her deep dark well as I straddle the hedge and listen to the winds. My form is the tree that connects all realms, clothed in holly and oak. I am Stoneacorn

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