- Books, Literature, and Writing
Death of a Poem – in another poem !!!!!!
Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.— Thomas Gray
A few drizzling pain
To quench the thirst of the words so free,
Some freezing rain
So lucid to wet the meaning of sense tree.
Flowing with wild flow
From the soul to wet the pages on fire,
Emotions do cringe
Feel the ice within the craze to retire.
Sense to visit baloney
For a change to kill the life so wasted,
Words to create felony
For a heart in pages to kill time crested.
Azure tears to wrinkle
The smile of lonely frowns of readers,
Mind gets berserk
For the raw deal redeem the fillers.
Dagger to split the heart
In many portions to mean the words,
Pages do cry to death
For the crimson blood bathe swards.
It’s the irony of blasphemy
To go beyond the no men’s land,
An empty casket of buoyancy
Spill the pages of history for errand.
Wondering ideas of evasion
To arrest the interest for illusion,
Shared silence in the funeral
Free the sublime joy of intuition.
Never the less…..
Let a poignant poem expire in ersatz racket,
Words do dive……
Sigh last breath in bottomless dark bracket.
Restive souls relaxed in orchid vine….
Tears jerked some feathery smiles,
Emptiness sure was tired of mime…
Darkness illuminated rare candles.
Aroma of flowers smelt few dried roses…..
Interment legacy sang a new chant,
Parade of shadows bloom to full moon nights…
Then and there…the history of a poem was buried blunt.
In the night of death, hope sees a star, and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing.— Robert Green Ingersoll