Monday, April 19, 2010

A MIROLOGUE.

and in the end..the world crumbled.
it was sad tho .
watching as the ashes fell slowly through the fragile air.
and it was a stale air..
a dead air... grey and calloused as a sour shepards grin..
a siren called, razor sharp, and it cut just so ...
the air thinned and the moments slowed even more.. .
and that shepherd walked a stone plank...
looking out at her..she was whole.
she was the lonely god of betrayal .
succulent and luscious ..
and....
brimming with a fever that cried its own fire viciously out of every pore in her beautiful face....
she spoke a soft mirologue.
forget me not..
ill come to you again she cried.if you see me, call my name..
oh lord..
fall with me this time..
fall to the endless black gorges of the unforgiving ocean.
and prey that this foul passion is not yet dead..
prey that there is a home for your filth.
and prey ..that there is love in fact..
but there is none.
so..

2 comments:

  1. nice poem, can i get a link on your blogxors?

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  2. Sounds like it should be in the book, The Road.
    Hi Matt!

    ReplyDelete