WhatA Poem by getinthecarpleaseBackward marched the candle glow As the wax flows in the shadows Pictures lapse, politely go As the figurines cloak touches the rope Cold we grope to the tired trope To be within some contemplation I mold the modulations To see what has begat some seasonal grief As the fake conducts the shriek Somewhere sometime looking down A porpoise leaps from the shattered deep As antique is shined and polished A ghost of the home where the phantom floats Upon the helms of shipwrecked boats I see the reminiscence pondering with resistance Toward the foaming shores, toward the opening doors Whence the fields shall come, where the mind is overcome Upon the crest of dragons my bayonet pierces the final words what is it that sees what is it that is me Each wandering thought shall prize with a word To orchestrate each song, each thought shall be heard Chaos bows and staggers in the sense Birthed from the fires, a sheer look of the summoned spires I want to see the ocean drift in a rift of sacred dreams The sands have flooded, the mountain has dried And I know that I have really died And I know that I have never cried what is it that sees me what is it... Solitary preliminary begotten from the stones that surround me I am lonesome in this hall of mirrors The angels fear I am forgotten in the clot of earth Damned to my scenes As my wall collapses and I see I am free
© 2016 getinthecarplease |
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Added on March 19, 2016 Last Updated on March 19, 2016 Author
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