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eirelaV Abeille (deltadelta) wrote,
@ 2003-10-04 13:12:00
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    Current mood: groggy
    Current music:Real

    Here's a poem I was inspired to write a day or two ago...
    A canvas of crimson fading into an ashen hue..

    Retracting the thoughts,
    the world spirals, staggers and slowly evaporates.
    I stare into the stygian eyes of oblivion-
    as it brews trouble, fear and dissonance,
    the stupor flooding me in nauseating uncertainty;
    My intensified awareness suits as a curse-
    the spiting honey and rancid juices sully my abrasive throat as
    asphalt powder strains down my quivering lungs.
    The silenced ululation is cold and shrilling and
    my soul looms to burst out while
    awaiting the body’s junction with the squalid, sweet soil
    that smells of welcoming demise.
    Above, the stars bleed on a sinister canopy;
    a crow screeches a nostalgic dirge commemorating the misogynic entity dissolving this ephemeral life…

    ---An explosion----

    and I awaken.

    My chest heaves as my muscles relax.
    My pink skin is still cushioned against the fresh grass of June.
    The bruised soul within sighs, perceptive of the claws that skulk to impart sufferance.
    Sapped from the perilous journey in my mind’s eye,
    I squint up to witness
    - fantasy
    dilute
    reality-
    a canvas of crimson fades into an ashen hue.

    The disconcertion of it's acutal veracity hangs in the air.
    I pause-
    Musing over the people whose diaphanous existence rested on my thoughts---
    Thousands have been massacred.

    so

    ...what's to stop my slaughter?



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