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]
Written by blue_angel
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3 reading list entries 0
comments 6 reads 65
Commenting Preference: 
The author is looking for friendly feedback.

Latest Forum Discussions
POETRY
17th August 1:57pm by admin
COMPETITIONS
6th June 9:17am by admin
COMPETITIONS
4th June 3:24pm by admin
SPEAKEASY
16th May 1:07pm by admin
POETRY
11th May 11:35am by katalon_test_user
POETRY
9th May 1:15pm by admin