A Lullaby
A sweet lullaby could be heard around the wooden cradle, embedded in a large field of wheat, underneath a clear blue sky.
On the ground, near the cradle, there was a walking stick that seemed to belong to nobody.
Then it was night, and in the cold empty streets of a city, a crippled man lied alone on a sidewalk. A dog was snatching off the remainings of his mutilated leg.
At the other end of the street, in a room that smelled just like home, a baby lied in a rocking chair in the corner, near the fire. He had his eyes closed as he listened to somesort of a magical whispering, like a sweet lullaby so peaceful and so pure.
On the wall, near the fire, hung a painting of Van Gogh.
© Maldoror37 - 2006
On the ground, near the cradle, there was a walking stick that seemed to belong to nobody.
Then it was night, and in the cold empty streets of a city, a crippled man lied alone on a sidewalk. A dog was snatching off the remainings of his mutilated leg.
At the other end of the street, in a room that smelled just like home, a baby lied in a rocking chair in the corner, near the fire. He had his eyes closed as he listened to somesort of a magical whispering, like a sweet lullaby so peaceful and so pure.
On the wall, near the fire, hung a painting of Van Gogh.
© Maldoror37 - 2006
posted by Maldoror at 2:34 AM
6 Comments:
None in particular. Just the style :)
You paint with words :)
Thank you Joumana :)
Poor man :(
Indeed,Delirious :P
A man's misfortunes are sometimes merely dog feasts. :)
It is a possibility! But then life would lose all meaning!
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