Until He

A Poem by H.

The passions.

He bleeds
until he
sweats & sweats
until he
weeps & weeps
until he
tremors, then
with tremors he is weak.

Weak he eats and
drinks the wine--
the fall befalls the feat
of weeping, sweating,
shaking off
and bleeding out
until he
sleeps.

© 2010 H.

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Added on January 30, 2010
Last Updated on January 30, 2010

Author

H.

Panama City, FL

About

I've thrown away the map, but can't let go of the wheel. I'm a musician. I've been writing poetry for much longer than I've been playing, so it's odd I consider myself as such first and foremost. .. more..

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