Tim B Poet Rhyme

Bloody Hands

The blood runs through my hands
pain, irony, lust, and sorrow
the night complains tomorrow
a day inside, inside bleeding sands
The blood... the blood runs through my hands.

God's grace shattered, his eyes turned away
Still this blood runs through my hands
Stay a little while, I hope and then pray
God told me little of his plans
The blood runs right through my hands...

Burnt, burnt down the bridge in day
Run, run across the acrid void at night
Seeking, losing, searching, finding at last...
That this blood, this blood runs through my hands.

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Elizabeth Wesley January 30, 2013 at 1:51 PM So deep Tim, there's a pain in this I feel but can't identify. Great poems seem to be born from pain and you bring it to me and I will try to understand. Lost track of you for a bit; hope all is ok!

Debbie Guzzi December 10, 2012 at 2:19 PM I so hope you are having a fine holiday season! I really liked this write especially the repetition of the line. I bet you'd do a great job with the Rondelete form in my contest why not try? Light & Love

Anne-Lise Andresen November 28, 2012 at 9:57 AM I wanted to say ..... a bloody poem, Tim. - But it was not a nice comments. - I like your poem, it is deep and well written. - - Wishing you a lovely day. -oxox / / Anne-Lise :)