deepundergroundpoetry.com
burning inside
evening crept about me
strangely
a webbed faint glow
stilted hums from moments ago
pieces of me left strewn
shown bright, no conscience
go on now -
keep chinking my disease
whittle the bone -
who dare label one's fractures?
where the garden is, and
seeds were sewn -
remembrance of its beauty
hinged short of regalement
my eyes open, yet
stilled by a fire in the sky
I'm slain,
slain in thorns,
my soles burn
for this path I chose
penumbra stirs my steps
then sharpens its scalpels
for incisions need depth[/font]
strangely
a webbed faint glow
stilted hums from moments ago
pieces of me left strewn
shown bright, no conscience
go on now -
keep chinking my disease
whittle the bone -
who dare label one's fractures?
where the garden is, and
seeds were sewn -
remembrance of its beauty
hinged short of regalement
my eyes open, yet
stilled by a fire in the sky
I'm slain,
slain in thorns,
my soles burn
for this path I chose
penumbra stirs my steps
then sharpens its scalpels
for incisions need depth[/font]
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