Her face is the picturesque eternity in which I bleed
Her eyes I see
Are that which burn my throat with thoughts unspeakable,
splitting my lips as I curse the night
in a masquerade of frustration uncontained by my unforgivable soul.
her beauty of which I speak is the sunset on the autumn's eve.
This monologue is the product of enfatuation, lust, and greed.
Once I have explained. . .
I always fall.
Too damn sad.
She is the world tonight in the iris of summer's eyes.
None can fathom.
None shall comprehend what I desire;
for that is death,
and tonight the world shall weep over another lamb lead to the slaughter
on the chopping block of content.
She is the world tonight in the Iris of summer's eyes.
Tonight the world shall cry
as I take one last look in her venemous eyes,
hold my breath,
lay down and die.
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3 comments:
You'r a talented writer, all the peoms are beautiful
ohmigawd beautiful!!!! i wish i was as good with words as you. ugh. all my poems are now on my DA pages. i'd link em but i'm too lazy.XD
so intense i can feel it! very well written. reminds me of my own mistake with this thing called a heart.
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