Prudence of None

Poem I wrote about the day I went to a music festival.

Road

Street

Funeral

Celebration

 

Painted face on the satirical rock.

Waves of instruments, washed upon the shore of Prudence.

 

Men wear clothes consisting of three.

Streets paved of wood,

gravel to bury the dead.

 

Water crashes upon my head, devoid of orgasm.

Painstaking the corrections,

 

The doors have opened,

strangers lurk.

 

Cry not

Lost is found, it is written,

on the porch.

 

Memories fade in volumes, of screams.

 

None is the answer, I wish to hear.

 

Right

Correct

 

Blood

Plasma

 

Cry out!

Missing treasure, burnt trash,

fused upon the shore.

 

Prudence?

 

3 X NONE

 

Kill

Destroy

Coffin of dreams closes, ramming hard.

Nothing is the same.

None?

Nothing is the same!

 

Cum

Degradation

 

Dreams cry too...

 

CRY CRY CRY

TEARS TEARS TEARS

 

Grass on the shore,

Art on Music.

 

The s**t.

 

WHO? Dare thee compare?

Sorcerer cover from the pain locked away, away, a…w…a…y…

Dream not,

For I am here, none.

 

Change is not the final solution,

but the answer to the puzzle.

The lady of the haunted lake,

knows the question.

 

No conclusion.

 

None. 

Author's Note

Dedicated to to the memory of Richard K.

Reviews

[BikerAngie]

Excellent write!

[Divinity Sleeps in This]

This is one of those that would translate into spoken word, brilliantly!