I HEARD DEATH WHISPERING MY NAME
In the shallows of junkyard avenue
Where fiery-red stallions are mounted by devils
And desolation is your last cigarette
I staggered from the weight of her kiss
As distant cannons sounded
And angels sought shelter
Fear is often the lonesome traveler
And I drank from her cup, hungrily, thirsty
She was my sustenance, my manna from heaven
And I courted her with both wine and sweet song
I lived in her dead embrace
And never tired of her hot breath on my flesh
A man can bookmark his soul with a thousand
wounds
Yet never own a dream
I left her a rose and words that I can no longer
remember
In the hidden places; on the darkest of nights
She whispers still
Copyright © William HAYNES | Year Posted 2025
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