The Pink Mist

A metaphor of man made dissipation and self destruction from the inside of a man. In the end, we all slip back into the earth. In death we wait, as the world waits, watching those who rule it.

 

Death through displacement

That a sound couldn’t alter

The Pink Mist

Caused my one heart’s falter

 

Double Replacement

For the eyes of the shell shocked seeker

The Pink Mist

Find the dust of his brother’s keeper

 

My Oxygen Tenement

Sustaining an ashen lambent still

The Pink Mist

Shallowing civilian fill

 

Enchanted, Permanent

As I amble through the placid sound

The Pink Mist

Taste the dissipated soul on top your mound

 

Author's Note

I'm not a fan of rhyming poetry.