PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I’m not sure what went first.

I see now only charred remains

of what was,

layers of ashes strewn about.

I clutch the warmth of the

last flame,

and walk away.



The desolation is grey,

yet giving me a strange sensation

Of grief and freedom,

a sundry blend that tends

To inebriate.

I gather pieces of the residue

and sing a new song,

Ashes to ashes…



I know I loved you,

you in your black silk

dragon kimono.

We walked down paths

where drought had taken

its toll,

where desire was ripe.

I just never knew you

Liked to play with matches.