plagued

quiet sunset

screams

sepulchral sorrow

 

I watch the disaster

bloom from behind

dirty glass

 

she cries rummy

tears

into my hollow chest

 

I attempt

to avert

my empathy

 

swallow another

bullet

for love

 

but the requiem

echoes & echoes

the slums

of my psyche

 

like the final roar

of a broken

saint

Reviews

[roarke]

plague.... plaguing, plagued, the post eden traumatic syndrome. Branded, banished, the dream comes to a rock furrowed realization.
It's all there, that moment, caught in the dirty glass reflection of the tears in the saint's eyes.

just getting warmed up eh?

[EMF]

Whenever I need a little clear cut sanity...here is where I come. Never lets me down.

[EMF]

Warmed up? Warmed up? that's like saying The Sun's a bit warm. Now as a word of adice...Well.... I'm waiting. Any word of advice to let me know how to write this well. No. Alright. Back to the Strawberry Yougurt.

[joshua deathdealer]

This is outstanding!! So much said within this short piece.

[Lily Mae]

That was painful.. the last stanza says it all.. I think you have tapped into the heart of many with this...xo