Swinging silent arrows in and out
watching God defend his work
I'll baracade myself into an
oh, so unforgivable hell.
A brutal facade closing in
it's getting hard to breathe
yet I smell, a hint of redemption
or does it smell like broken dreams?
Opening this hole I can finally see
how this monster came to be
I taste the air, still flawed and bitter
another golden angel, not meant for me.
Such grace filled with such hope
and a mistaken glance at passion.
A contest entry
- Vague Lines by CarolDesjarlais.
1050 points, ended October 17, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - 1000 points, 1000 pws by Shadow Anonymised.
1000 points, ended November 23, 1080 entries
• next poem in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest
Do you like it?
Comments
-
Oh man, what a couple of lines:
"a hint of redemption
or does it smell like broken dreams"
they are the kind I wish I had a muse to give to me.
How often we mistake our mistake, never mind that we mistakenly place our passion on the mistaken. ah, yeah, I've done it a time or two. Thank you for entering it...those two lines just blew me away!
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