Leaves are blowing.
Tinged with red
-sap or blood?-
Smelling of ash,
Incense and grief...
The Dark hole gapes-
The Black Hole:
Sucking into it's
Depths,
Closing the lid.
It is Done.
...From ashes to ashes
from dust to dust....
Tinged with red
-sap or blood?-
Smelling of ash,
Incense and grief...
The Dark hole gapes-
The Black Hole:
Sucking into it's
Depths,
Closing the lid.
It is Done.
...From ashes to ashes
from dust to dust....
5 comments:
wowowowowowowowo... sigh its like a meteor hit me at the speed of sound ok that sounds hilarious.anyway love the crisp linesa and vivid images beautifully ended with
"...from ashes to ashes.." :DDD
thanks I appreciate your valuable comments :D
sigh...
one of your darker poems.
you know, I've actually been trying to say something abt it for a couple of days now but I'm still kinda speechless.
I like your use of capitals, it adds a certain... quelque chose... to it. (as opposed to je ne sais quoi, he he)
I dunno, but the first line gives it an ominous tone.
Damn it, I can't put my finger on it. Grrr... >:[
Somethings are not meant to be explained, not even pronounced upon or understood. They are meant to be absorbed and reflected upon, that their essence becomes yours as well. This I feel falls into that elusive last category.
hmm...this is satiating tonight
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