I cannot compete with something as painstakingly glorious as you
Envy is but a humbling tumble down a steep, rocky hill
I am crushed in your fits of glory—your screaming for passion
My approaches are absolutely wrong
Therefore my communication is a weak, ransomed victim
Your poison arrow frog skin rubs against my exposed body
I happily accept my fate
For your beauty surpasses the ephemeral pain of the infectious reign
My erroneous, inevitable downfall
I hold you up—I feel the need to keep you tall!
Michael the Archangel did not insult you once, Lucifer
How then will I?
How can I possibly be higher than you?-
Why would I want to?
I admire your freedom
I simply disregard your macrodomes of ever-worshiped flaw
If I could allow myself, I would share in your glory
Only to add to it further
But as I am poisoned with the truth
I can only be your grounded pedestal
And though you flee from humility in its wake upon my brow
I realize everyday you are living for the grounded now
And I merely look to the unknown future
A place I dread where you unwillingly hold me up
Bonded in the ground with Death and Hades
You become my pedestal, and the worms my vineyard
My parasitic feet seer your glory
I am ever so sorry
I never wanted this renown
There was a time I do recall
When you overtook me in my sleep
I cried aloud in helpless acceptance
But soon I was forced in a croak of laughter
I felt your bitter poison
I felt pride at last
I thank you for it
I thank you for showing me
What I will never be
Provoke me no longer to praise your eternal existence
Generations of Evening take a hold of me now
And the fruit must be shared
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal
"With Angels Wings"
The whispering winds, a song they sing
A song of sorrow and of a heart so big
Your love reaches as far as the eye can see
I believe in dreams because in my heart, you beat
Just as a gentle breeze shimmers every leaf
Your love, in every heart, plants a seed
Elegance, love and hope is what grows beneath
And this is your gift to us....
For safe keeping.
So...if you ever wonder why heaven sings
It's because now you fly...
With Angels Wings
Copyright © Rob Schulteis
What manner of an angel be
my love, who standeth here?
Such beauty did I never see
in any Earthly year.
What mighty magic has she cast
to make me love her so,
that if I should for aeons last,
still with her I shall go?
What wonders lay beneath her breast
and weigh my heart like stones?
These eyes of mine did never rest
on any sweeter bones.
What better end have I to meet
than ‘fore my Lady break me
to lift me in her embrace sweet
and to her darkness take me?
Copyright © Robert Valentine
You can behead an unarmed man
You can rape a defenseless woman
You can blow up an innocent child
You can burn a book, or 1000's
Attempt to erase history
Spit on the culture of mankind
Here is what you will never do
You will never catch Charlie Brown
Or behead Allah the almighty
You are an army
Of no hearts
Of no heads
The army of the evil living dead
Copyright © arthur vaso
I saw a death shadow in the eyes of my infancy
a soft mercy with calm blue fancy,
in childhood, when free will asserted it's wild supremacy
we sang of star charriots and laughter loyal to hyperactivity,
I see a death shadow in the prime of my ascendancy
outlining my temple of truth, whistling thy words of wizardry,
I hear It like the madness of morning's ending,
I taste It as if from the burning breast milk of a Dragoness,
I see It in the bleeding smile of my heart's kindness,
I speak to It when love's luster unlocks the lunacy of loneliness,
I feel the humble shade of It's jade justice in a world hot and hustling,
My death shadow has a surface sweet with patient purpose,
It is not rough with forboding frost that frights the fight of flesh,
rattling the scythe of doom and cackling for cataleptic crisis it does not,
It is not a grim God or a greedy Goddess, no taxing terror trumpeted,
It has never been an angel of escape or a demon of dour delirium,
when suffering becomes a seduction of brute beauty I share in it's wise joy,
my death shadow follows the desperate yet disciplined form of my body battle
through life's plethora of coy poisons and possessive passions,
marching along side me with martial grace, sculpting my face with lion spirit -
Copyright © Justin Bordner
How could you leave your loving bride?
Cut down in youth, still in your prime
Your rare blood disease appeared suddenly
Just four years of bliss till you were taken from me
When first I saw your face, those blue eyes stunned
So many adored you, but your kind heart I won
Just by showing you love and sharing our joy
Even my mama worshiped my special, sweet boy
Death seems to take the finest too soon
Their faces smile in stars embracing the moon
One day we shall be reunited, my love
Until then, I search for comfort in night sky above
Comfort comes quickly when his spirit visits
I see his eyes twinkling, how could I miss it
Whenever I pull a fresh fish from the sea
A worthy fisherman, John would be pleased
When I'm feeling down I need only resurrect
Precious memories of John I cherish and protect
*John was my beloved husband. Elegy in honor of Dr. Ram's contest.
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire
What smug pseudomorph inhabits my reflection,
adroitly mimicking my every manner and expression,
mercilessly mocking me with flawless simulation?
She is the great pretender;
a master counterfeiter;
a furtive opportunist;
a thieving imitator.
She is a soul-sucking demon of the gravest degree;
a predatory parasite dining on youth and ingeny.
She pillages my health with brazen meretricity;
siphoning my precious hollow of vitality.
Time ticks across my aging face
while our eyes lock in defiance,
and in the end, my spurious friend
will demand my full compliance.
So, with a twinkling eye I wink at my mirrored facade,
acknowledging this fearsome foe with a playful nod.
Respectfully reciprocal, she gestures back to me in kind,
and we part as esteemed enemies, to my last breath resigned.
Copyright © Thvia Stein
Lou Reed , Mistral of his time
so you walked this road on the wild side
unique in music , never selling out
believing in Art instead of commercialize
Lou Reed the musician never compromised ~
Sweet Jane not enough for our crowd of eccentric rockers
still will live forever with the many that left before you
one can imagine from John Lennon to Johnny Ramone
a party in Heaven of the finest rock bestowed
no text , no MTV when they pursued a dream
New York, hotel Chelsea an age of Renaissance
ragged jeans and leather jackets ,Art on stage
No, your Rock not ever fade away , it will stay sweet Jane forever ~
For the fine Man with words , ode to Lou Reed .
Copyright © Shanity Rain
This new born day I celebrate your souls release from guilt n’ captivity since that day you
felt a carnal touch of sin within as your hands played poetically upon the curves of your dead
lover’s silken skin…
I know now you made your way to the top of the rocks to plant a tree to guard this sacred
place where I fell from thee n’ you repeated the poetic chant of love’s abandoning to follow
me into our karmic destiny…
On that fateful day your soul bled away at the top of this crest by a solitary juvenile tree,
your body of words fell to the rocks at the base of this cliff, embroidered into the blood of
The one who would hold a feather to her face on this crest by the sea n’ remember finally
the days gone by of you n’ me, our deaths from love’s abandoning when you my love were
lost to this world n’ me for ten centuries…
I now await destiny as we will love forever more with immortal hearts…
Copyright © Lilt Of Orpheus
Do not fear now the time has come
remember with pride her success.
She will never truly die while on
lives her music and her songs.
We will always remember her
with love and delight as always
she touched a nations heart
bringing us her special magic.
Cilla I grew up to your music
watched you in surprise, surprise.
You represented the best of our
small island and spread joy in all.
Dear lady, rest now in peace
the wrench to our hearts
will keep you alive for many years.
Bless you for all you gave us.
Copyright © Shadow Hamilton
I woke up this morning with tears in my eyes,
your face was in the morning paper;
they shot you dead like a dog,
hunted you out all day and night.
They said you'd always been a bad seed
and youths were dying because of you;
they said you're a criminal on the run
with a dirty face and shaggy head.
But I know you better than they do,
you preached love to all the people;
you fought for them, young and old,
you lit up their nights with your heart.
And now as I see you lying dead,
it seems my dreams have vanished as well;
they can call you names, any names they want,
but I know there's only one like you,
there's only one like you,
there's only one Che Guevara.
You lit up their nights with your heart,
you lit up their nights with your heart,
you lit up their nights with your heart.
Copyright © Wilfredo Derequito
This pain in my heart is out of control,
for life without you has deeply wounded my soul.
Bitter-sweet memories flood my weary brain,
as this heartache and grief drive me insane.
Your part in my life, a blessing I treasure;
and love for my Coyote is far beyond measure.
You are at peace and suffer no pain.
This, alone, be my comfort to keep me half sane.
Copyright © Lola Maria King
Once, when my soul cried out in mournful pain;
I believed the Spirit, with me, wept.
When I felt that life was all in vain,
He lifted me from the drowning depth.
Now when flowing tears upon me fall,
and all seems hopeless in this life;
Does He hear my constant wailing call,
when I feel grief’s merciless cutting knife?
Where is my God when I need Him so,
when my soul is wounded and torn apart?
The One Who promised to never forsake nor leave,
does He see me here with bleeding heart?
Like the lonesome howling coyote, my soul does cry
in vain, it seems for peaceful relief.
And as the unfolding years go by,
will I forever be haunted with relentless grief?
Will there be answers which I will someday find?
Will my feet ever be back on the ground?
Unanswered questions riddle my weary mind,
as I feel and see the misery all around.
I was one of faith and considered strong,
but now am weak and a pitiful creature.
What I have become, I have pondered long;
and realize my need of the One True Teacher.
Once again, my howling, mournful wail cries out;
“Oh, God, my Master, hear my plea.
We need Your help, without one single doubt.
We beg for strength to set all pain free...”
Copyright © Lola Maria King
Oh how my heart yearns for you
That once was my dearest friend
We traveled many miles with each other
shared our thoughts and passions
We put the world to rights time and again
You were my sanctuary from life's woes
Never asking or expecting anything from me
freely giving me everything you could
It was only when you were taken from me
That I realised what a gift I had lost
The gap left in my heart so big,
A chasm I was unable to fill
Why oh why you i cried out in sorrow
It should have been me for you were no age
The angels took a piece of my heart
On the day they took you
One day soon I will again travel with you
For such is the fate of mankind
contest Skat's favourite poems
Copyright © Shadow Hamilton
This icon was as noble as a king
in many ways as wise as solomon
but great was he like Chris Himself
His voice was as soft and touching as a fairy’s
in many ways he was as meek as a lamb
with garments as opulent as if made in heaven
His songs made the world tremble
and his sight made people fumble
in music, he was invincible
He danced beyond measure
his dancing style was unique
the way he arrayed his dresses on him was unique
He was as rich as solomon
for the gold he amassed was beyond measure
he could turn black to white
when he danced, what a sight!!!
and when he monwalked, it was a marvel
when he twisted people were mesmerised.
“King of pop” he earned the title
grammy amonsgt other awards bored him
MJ was a supernatural being
As humans we have flaws
he was no exception
for he was a human
At two scores and a half
our icon breathed his last
bringing sorrow to our world
He will forever dwell in our minds
for he was a man who knew no bounds
for his songs still thrill people
MICHAEL JACKSON, I LOVE YOU
Copyright © temajung michael
LOVE AND DEATH
Love is a thing which perches in soul
and never dies for those who parts
forever and dies reluctantly for all
those who deal it with dull verve hence finally retards.
Its intensity can never be matched
by any way, any sense or any being
the loveliness of soul which initially hatches
in eyes and finally lead to an undying thing.
The iniciated feeling kisses the eye and lead
the body to shiver and form an never ending joy
joy which increases with senses and feed
the soul with luxury of peerless eyes and soothing joy.
When eyes fall on thine god, a material being
a wave travel from eyes to soul
and leave us shocked and lead us to drowse in feeling
of the cosmic one more beauteous, pretty then all.
A word from her soft coloured lips is treat
for your soul and finally try to speak
to that elf, an everlasting meet
in your brain did relive forever and make thee week.
But when you have conversed enough and all
secrets did revealed, the enthusiasm, the joy, the love
starts to retard and mighty love starts to fall
and fall all thy passions, thy deity thine happy dove.
Your drowsing in happy feeling, thine everlasting thing
decrease by degrees, you being unknown
the thing which use to shiver thine ere being
your love dwindles while thine body had grown.
But after ages when ye become pallid and calm
its assistance ye need or when you lay in despair
in this material world, it seems the only balm
which provide thee love and care.
A never ending charm an ethereal soul
which lift the mortal man from dying and and taking birth
and make life and death traveling journey for all
except those in whose nature there is love's dearth.
Copyright © Akash ripper
ODE TO FRAN
I had to wait
Until I could write
Without shedding a tear
But, alas, that time will never come.
I hear a noise
I look around, she won’t be there
She won’t return
I have to accept
The finality of her death.
She was everyone’s friend
She loved people and
People loved her in return
Strangers would talk to her
No matter where
As if they knew her for eternity.
Her family always came first
No matter the pain she felt
She had a need
To keep pain to herself
She did not want to worry us.
She made my life whole
She gave me two wonderful children
And she always gave of herself
She was a bright, caring, compassionate soul.
We loved each other
Without ever a doubt
We made each other happy
We were a good, complete couple.
Now my loving partner is gone
She will not return
I have to accept
The finality of her death.
Copyright © Leonard Kleeman
(Ode to my Sister)
P erhaps it was never meant to be
R ight from the start, a baby sister for me
E arly January morn when she breathes her last
C old hearted fate, took her, a few years past
I n that few moments, I touched her tiny hands
O ur spirit entwined forming an eternal bond
U nited thus our soul separated by fate.
S omeday, someday, we’ll meet at heaven’s gate
A precious little thing, tiny hands on my fingers cling
U pon this world she graced for a time fleeting
D reamy little eyes, she stole a look at my face
R attled my emotion, my heart started to race
E ver so gently, I caress her head of soft curly hair
Y es, tears did flow down my cheeks, I truly love her.
J esus, I prayed, “cradle her in Your arm, protect my little sister.”
A nd, He answered right that day, and to heaven He took her.
D earest little sister, I shall come knocking at heaven’s gate
E ternity awaits, we shall see each other, but not yet,. . . not yet.
L et me live my life to the fullest, reach my goals and dreams
U ntil such time when I can prove nothing more
I shall come to you, my little sister, and be a brother once more.
Copyright © roven dino
In a small village there grew
a beauty pure, and true
a flower beyond pristine
a shy rose not yet seen
Blessed are those who can hear the screams of flowers picked to soon.
A woman grounded in earthly hue
came to light in Royal blue.
A lady of depth and substance
towered above pomp and circumstance.
Blessed are those who can cradle a wilted body without pause, or fear.
With our heads bent in silent contemplation,
we bid farewell to the conscience of a nation.
To “England’s Rose” we say good-bye.
Good-bye to our lovely Princess Di’
Blessed are the wingless angels that walk in the valley among us.
Copyright © Kim Morrison
Three of my chickens are dead and they have left a hole in my heart,
I want to mark their passing, prove that they were alive and very much loved by me,
They were real, breathing and full of life from the start,
Oh they made me laugh, so hilarious and quirky; such fun hidden away on our allotment,
They did no great deeds, were not famous and hardly anyone knew they were there,
Alert and trusting, they followed my steps, looked at me with their heads to one side, wondering and seeing,
They slept in my arms and closed their tiny eyes when I stroked under their beaks,
Laid eggs and loved wholemeal bread, sometimes combining the two in to a healthy treat in their run, pecking and pinching whatever they could,
Stood on my spade when I was trying to dig, and ate the biggest worms I ever did see,
Had me running in circles to catch them, jumped out of the hutch when I thought I’d put them in,
Kicked over their food tin so I’d give them more and always hid in the shed,
Rearranged their sleeping compartments when I had just cleaned them out, kicking the neat straw all over,
Ate all of my winter cabbages and nibbled at my sprouts, sat on the compost heap and looked around, Queens of the allotment!
Were brave in the face of danger, survived against the odds,
When poorly, they slept cozily in my basement, and understood when it was time to die,
They may have only been chickens to most, but to me they were my friends,
Always pleased to see me, they needed me, and greeted me loudly every day,
Three lives have been taken, but I will not forget them,
I will look back and smile, and talk kindly of Muriel, Edith and Ethel,
For they were the three hens that taught me that all life is precious, no matter how unnoticeable and small.
Copyright © Fran Slimon
Mother you so beautiful your are.
Sweet mother you are to me precious.
Mother you, Mother you are,
Mother you are the world to me.
Mother your gracious, Mother you are.
Mother you have always been my super star.
Mother you, Mother you are.
Mother you are now resting in the arms of Jesus.
Mother you I miss you so very much.
Mother you are my mommy, Oh how I love you so very much.
Mother how much in sorrow I am left in this world without you.
Mother you, mother you are to me.
Mommie you are, my mother you are.
Mother I will always love you.
Peggy Ann Chandler.
You are you.
God Bless You
I will always miss
and love you.
Copyright © Cheryl Chandler
I'm walking out into the gorgeous summer day
and I feel nothing at all;
not the warmth of the sun,
the melodies of songbirds,
nor the cars driving by my street
who haven't the slightest clue of what just transpired
a mere twenty minutes ago.
Yeah, since the news came to me
not one lighthearted thought comes to mind.
I'm in the back of the store, doing dishes to pass the time
and I can't help but wander if anyone notices
the blooming roses on my cheeks.
They'd probably say something encouraging like
"Way to attack those dishes!".
Believe me it's not for efficiency's sake,
I'm MAD, and it just so happens to bring emphasis
to the saying "Use a little elbow grease".
Anymore and I might just a punch a hole through the plastic...
Yeah, since the news came to me
things became way too real.
I no longer felt like radiation that refuses to leave the atmosphere.
No I felt much more akin to a ticking time bomb
in the middle of the Sahara desert.
I could die at anytime
and it wouldn't matter what I was doing:
Sitting on the sofa, devouring a bag of Lays
and then passing out on salt overdose,
Or walking my dog because the weather was nice,
and then crossing paths with a baseball sized meteorite.
I try to stick to the bright side of things,
but the fact remains you died too soon, Tom.
I wonder what flashed through you head
just seconds before driving over that IED.
In a selfish way I'd like to think you thought of me
in those final moments, but I know that's silly.
If I was a piece in your day-to-day life
you would need a microscope
to even notice I was there at all.
As I sit here writing this
I recall the time we watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre,
on Halloween night in the old Stonehouse.
We thought that was gory then,
but it's most likely child's play to the stuff
you must have seen in the last three years.
The saddest thing of all for me
is something irrefutably petty,
but it comes to mind nonetheless.
You paid for my movie ticket
when we went and saw The Dark Knight.
I remember how sure and confident I was when I beamed
"I'll pay you back for this. Next time I see you!".
Well that ship has long since sailed.
Perhaps someday we'll meet again, mate,
but for now it's just a waiting game.
And today that feels like the game where nobody wins
it's just something we play...
NOTE: Two days ago I found out a good friend of mine died in Afghanistan. He was a soldier, and barely four years older than me...
Copyright © Timothy Hicks
The storm comes less often now,
Come it does.
Cyclical… Circular… predictable in its pattern.
It’s been a while dear friend.
The sun so bright-
Harder to find you these days
Memories slow my step suddenly.
Seizing my mind as our past flashes upon a wall.
Compelled… Consumed… by these morsels of time.
Times when immortality we feigned.
This is the calm –
The beginning of the storm
Clouds gather upon the horizon.
The earthy smell of its coming is heavy… heavy upon a familiar breeze.
Ah yes… the breeze that seems cooler than it should.
I draw deeply on this… this sweeping scent of eternity’s veil.
The clouds grow –
Shadows and sunlight struggle before me
All warmth escapes my aura.
I am immersed.
Frantically… Languidly… into the coming of the storm.
Welcome is this diversion… shade from the invading sun.
My mind surrenders –
Souls grasping across time for the other
Peculiar is the searing peace which accompanies the pall.
Only here in the shadows do I… Can I…
Betray… Embrace… the extent of my pain.
Mundane detail is lost in the altered light.
The storm is upon me –
It arrives with intensity. The winds rage…
Deafening… Silent… reprieve from the tainted melody.
The almost honest lyrics of my daily stage.
Thunder claps –
This encore overdue
In the windows of my soul. The salty rain…
Begins to fall.
Welling… Streaming… down the valleys of my contorted mask
I welcome the pain… for in it is your smile.
It lasts until –
It is in the storm that I find you. Little brother…
Leading me forward.
Laughing… Reaching… You bring forever to my eye.
I gleefully let you go again. One eye upon the horizon of always.
I see you little brother –
Receding within me
The shadows persist. The winds no longer rage…
Warm is the breeze.
Comforting… Teasing… as the soul-glow rushes not to leave.
The violent outpour but a misty drizzle.
The storm comes –
Less often now
I miss you most as you leave. Pain becomes peace…
In the wake.
Squinting… Basking… I welcome the glare of the sun.
It seems brighter each time… your shadow grows longer.
Until the next storm –
Copyright © Mickey Brady
The"tail" I have to tell, starts off really sad.
My sweet doggie Murphy died and my heart, it hurt so bad.
Until one day in early spring, I got a call that made my heart sing!
There were some puppies born in Waco, the daddy -Jasper, and mommy- Juneau.
Four little boys, three little girls. But the picture of one boy, made my heart twirl!
So I waited for a week or two, to meet my little puppy-oh so new!
I named him Humphrey, such a handsome boy! He has brought laughter back and oh what a joy! He's super cute, and very smart. Many would say, he's a work of art!
He's learning new tricks, and how to potty outside. So many rules to learn and abide!
Humphrey is growing so quickly, the puppy breath will soon disappear. He will be an adult in less than a year! Every stage of his life is a blessing from above. I guess that's the true meaning of what we call "puppy love".
Copyright © Meghan Palmer
Alas! We meet again!
We held fist against each other back then,
But once more now I see you,
And I am more than ready too.
Conceding to you my life,
For this conflict cannot be ceased by strife,
You are with the Divine,
And I thank you for the gift of extended Time.
Alas! My friend depart with me,
Guide me and give me the chance to be free,
Free from the clutches of life and its reality,
Grant me the feeling of eternal glee.
To my friends I say to you all,
Do not see my death as my own downfall,
For I am happy with my old friend who visits me now and then,
Let him do as he pleases for this is the fate of all men.
Copyright © Angelus Somnium
Note: Giving good orderly direction.... " Give A little Obama Love "
To-day is a New Day
Time for people to Pray
If their were No Unity
Where would we be to-day?
Why is it..
That all of 'GOD' People
War Torn Today..
With nothing going on
With nothing to speak of..
So little to say!
So, looking back on Reflection
In a more Democratic Way
Let's give the Future back
To the Children
- And -
Let Jesus lead the way
So, Why not give them Love
Show them another way
Remember that Obama Care
Is a Health Care which is
Oh! so very rare..
It could really save the Day?
Do you know a better way?
It is meant for people with
Not for those...
Who just don't care!
For it is just an annoyance
Who really need Insurance?
So, if you have Insurance
And that is all that really
Matter to you...
Remember that their are
Men, Women and Children
Who needs' a plan too...?
For the Obama Plan is high
And Gods' People are too...
Note: Remember that if you need a Health Plan
then we need one too...
Copyright © Gary Fields
that our lieders could not to live forever.
You just imagine
what happened our world for
if our immortal comrades
might electing himself
handred and handred times
Only think, dear,
what happenned around,
if our national leader
will create innumerous tandems,
constitutions and rules
for legitimace eternal presidency,
in the memory of generations and generations,
as a superman and superstar
on the various horses,
on the countless planes and jets
in the countless submarins,
on the countless Siberian rivers
with naked proudly torse
in present time
(and naked soul and batress on future retrospect)
on the spacerships and warships,
on the fares corner of space,
with sombrero on head
and without it
on the wing of Saturn,
as a golden giant stature
in the deserts of Asia,
and so on, so on
your exellency and your majesty,
till the completely crackdown
Thank you, my Lord
for sharp limitation
such maddening plays
from our rulers.
Copyright © zamir osorov
Like a lion, moving stealthily,
you take your victims unawares.
Like a thief, you move secretly,
for when you strike, no one hears.
Like the iroko, you stand tall
deligently, going about your mission.
You do not answer to all
'cos none has the power of decision.
You who unmoved, and to remorse slow,
who gave thee birth?
Your mother, i imploe thee, show.
You, who have the power to unleash pain,
see, as it follows in your wake.
You shower it like rain,
on those you did not take.
Like the grandfather's clock,
every second you strike.
Unrelenting as a rock
and each day, goin on hike.
You who unmoved, and to remorse slow,
who gave thee birth?
Your mother, i implore thee, show.
Those you call you watch, near
as they go away.
Those you leave today, you sneer,
for them, you'll come for someday.
Copyright © Chibuzor Ikemenogo
As I picked up the glass
I felt its weight
I felt its coolness
Its perfect smoothness
So where does gravity find a grip?
As I sipped the wine
I tasted aromas deep
I tasted the sun on rounded grapes
Grown in distant, romantic landscapes
So how did the taste get to travel?
As I saw the light reflected red
I saw the rings of colour
I saw the glow, I saw the faded pallor
In the edges of the light
So why did the light leave no mark?
And as I turned to weightlessness
And became a deathly stench
I turned into eternal light
My hand being firmly clenched
So why are You taking me home?
Copyright © Daniel Human
There is a fact known,
A fact not meant to be so.
A fact we know,
Though here we fight for it being better.
For literature, I am seeing her in a coma,
And writing in a mortuary
While I did see Drama insane,
I see prose, bedridden,
Then for poetry, I weep,
For she is at her grave side.
Someone should help her, I pray,
Maybe us, I think.
My best I attempt,
But would it be enough?
For all it need is a miracle.
A miracle strong and powerful.
Copyright © Kanu Ekpezu