Breathing Poetry
This hunger for phrases still incomplete
fiercely engulfs me,
rummaging and drowning
my thoughts to slay the winds
and honor my madness.
When I feel something lighting my mind,
a starburst, a craving, a dream...
this virus from a soul quite delirious
spreads over me like wildfire
flowing through the marrow of veins.
Again , each poem becomes my breath;
another strain from heavens's chime
feeling the trickles raking in my navel,
a tattered quill spinning with midnight...
Not accepting sleep, I'm on the brink
of a wind's edge holding life’s grail
as traces of dawn freeze...
until my verse's breath wakes into a psalm.
Poetry And Me : Silent One's Contest
2/22/2019
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2019
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