PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The world’s breath is sucked in by the dropping sun; like a bystander at the scene of a terrible accident.

“Don’t look at me, don’t look at me! “, is wracked out by the face of the moon of a dead wound.

Cauterized cut, preserved Egyptian eye – it is the result of a forced dilation into a shriekingly white light.

Do not plead with it, it will not yield. It cripples the back, the line of a spine coils (you must see this one out).

A flex, the flux a ninja star! Another digression? Oh come on!

So then, does it feel sore?

Red is beautiful, one should appreciate it! Sorrow blooms like a field of Azaleas in a cradle-less dawn

And every road out from it is hallucinated by somebody nomadic, always just a soul-wisp away from:

The edge of a cliff

The ledge of a life.