Shall I breed in destiny—
Like a fragile hope of no captivity
Drawn from my weary mind?
As I set it in stone—in time
The place where I’ll rest
For monotony has raped me of my best…
I’ll breathe in and out your empty breath
And drink down all your love,
As your sullen eyes bleed for me
Like a dying white dove;
Pulled from the very blue
Of which you dream and dwell—
Though I’ll never bleed for you
Willows can weep for you and I—
A forgotten love—an emotional lie;
The sirens can lure us in
But to each their own—we’ll begin
Our own song, yet again.
Do not fret, my dear, my friend
I’ll still dream of you; though not highly
For lies still fill your shallow eyes
I’ll sit upon your throne,
And gander about your city,
I’ll poke and prod at them all,
While showing them no pity.
I’ll watch death fall from your trees
As I shrug my shoulders and laugh
For you’re shedding life—
Dwelling in an unborn past…
Your blood may fall before my feet,
I’ll still love you the same—
If at all—before you grasp,
That I, too, can play this game.
Author notes
Mneh...just a poem about playing with Life and Death
Written October 16th, 2005
What did you think
Comments
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Thanks. And sorry for being so slow to get back to you. I haven't been on in ages.
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very nicely
Your blood may fall before my feet,
I’ll still love you the same—
If at all—before you grasp,
That I, too, can play this game.
very nicely ended -
Thank you, I appreciate it.
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Everyone has the urge to be cruel. Something deep down in us all desires it. This kind of makes me think of that.
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