Bloodshot Moon (Sequel To Blue Moon)
And STILL I cry the blood of lovers past.
In front of me like heat she dances long.
Mirage of comfort seems to never last.
Brings out of me another dreary song.
Unfair it is to me to be alone.
A broken, shattered, hopeless, tortured soul.
Oases dry, they leave behind no bones.
But I remain, it's out of my control.
Acquired knowledge stored in Swiss accounts.
He want to hold the world before he dies.
"My debonair," he thinks, "is so pronounced.
He safely hides behind his lofty eyes.
"Beware," we say, "You know too much for love."
You'll never see a book upon a dove.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
