Tuesday, 14 June 2016

Poem 105

And death 
on my finger 
flicked away 
the Spider Black 
died tonight. 

And in this dark 
for you, no escape
and it's distance 
my poems bridge.
For decay 
must, have its way 
And she, 
who 
never judged 
And dme 
who would 
never not,
write
the words of love. 
And today,
your shield 
still not raised,
though, he said
"It must be, this way".
Still you thirst 
for the poet's, verse 
for each 
have danced
between your DNA. 
And there
has cut, 
his chosen shape
But you 
did love
the pain, of blood
and, you 
who always would 
take his, breath, away.
And you
a path 
so eloquence, and laid
And down that Line 
my finger 
found, 
your tremble, wild
And like
the guitar notes
which just played
We did 
sweetly,
resonate,
this air 
of breath,
and there in sulphur 
dreams,

.........We found.

No comments:

Post a Comment