Wrinkled pillars,
In four corners
Of aging flesh
And clotted fears,
Abandoned life
Of no more use
To those who watch
Blatand abuse,
A Web of viens,
Pumbing out blood
In a rust pool
Of yellow mud.
Who will avenge
Sorrow and pain
Of this blameless
Animal slain?
(Apologies for the morbidity. This was a nightmare that needed to be written out)
Very cool when you can turn a dream/nightmare into a piece of poetry. Well done. And so sad.
ReplyDeleteSo sad :(
ReplyDeleteThanks for the follow on Twitter, Taryn. I stopped by to follow your blog, too.
ReplyDeleteNice to meet you!
As for your poem, that's not so nice, but it is nicely written.
No apologies... I thought this was very well done... my heart was breaking.
ReplyDeleteSo sad, but glad you wrote this. And thank you for sharing it with us.
ReplyDeleteI'm not poet, unfortunately, but I connected with the sentiment here. Nicely done :)
ReplyDeletePS: I loved your post at Secret Archives today. It really resonated with me, and got me thinking in a direction my writing mind had been screaming for already.
And, I liked your review of Monarch too :)
.........dhole