The dark of the Daevic shadows

The whisper of the stark night

The light of the sweet meadows

The grandeur of your lost fight


He creeps past your old bones

And laces your senseless spine

Embraces your faded name set in stone

And slithers lethally “You’re solely mine”


Dulled by a chisel, to an empty start

Indulged in liquors of the bitterest sin

Sedated by his cold, your ticking heart

Never knew he pumped it with nitroglycerin


The vespertine of the blurred figures

The susurrus chants of burned sedate

The blinding bright of heavenly whispers

As your heart goes off and you detonate.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s