Dead
broken
branches screeching
winds
howling
destruction
rampant
burning cities
screams of injustice
bleeding
cracked glass
shattered
pillars tossed
hidden beneath
glittering fools gold
bones
basement level
crypts
misted hoards
felled upon
feeds bitter death.
Night sky
orange
acrid smoke
drifting
broken lands
cracked
sered
oceans boiling
monsters rise from the deep
clawing
cracked maws
fetid breath
run
crimson puddles
gleam black
footprints
burned into concrete.
Follow
me…..
Follow
you…..
Follow
Death…..
©Sept. 26/20
Picture via Pinterest
(((((HUGS darlin’ girl))))) ♥
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Creative juices are the first thing to take a nose dive when we’re out of sorts. Don’t push yourself sis, rest, take things easy between work shifts and chill. The creativity will flow soon enough, and, I would just like to say, if this is you struggling, the rest of us might as well hang up our pens and keyboards and say ‘k’ got nothin’!’ This poem half written some time ago or not, is stunning. xxx
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Thank you. You just made me cry. I will send you an email today. Getting it all out will help. Love you big sis xoxoxox
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As seen through the eyes of a watcher. The strength in this poem is the cold detached way in which the words are dripped down on to us. There is a dispassionate feel to it, it say’s ‘you did this to yourselves, I’m taking it off you now.’
Chilling. Love it! More please! 😀 xxx
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Thank you. I have a confession to make. I wrote half the poem earlier and as I was struggling yesterday (actually last few days) I decided to try and finish it off. Which I did. And I am glad it worked seamlessly as it did. Hoping that my levels come back up soon. I had not been sleeping well but last few nights I have been sleeping and hoping that that is going to kick start my creative juices running again.
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