PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Scandals

Named tort and ture

Partners in crime 

Enemies of cure

Lure me into these shallow depths of stables cluttered with filth

Wearing fur in the baking sun 

The timer 'bings' .. my meal is done

Fulfill me please for pleasure has turned to the exterior world

My heart has given up on what's important

Pickaxes chip at the bones in my feet

As they weaken my stance I one last time glance around

Perhaps my surrender will save me 

Mammoths stampede and shake the ground around me 

Rubble bounces to my face that lays on the ground 

The remainder of time is being spent 

For soon Ill have none left 

Orange pointed birds circle from above performing miracles it seems

mere hallucination my love 

My mind has cashed in but the gambler still near

There seems to be no method to get him away from here