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Tides combed with flame

I'm linked with chains rusted with a corrosive guilt, my head slams into drums as a pot-like frequency is emitted.

Sandy nails bend at the mercy of time, as harsh winds and wet nights Swinging for again another bruise. 

Into the the bright four corners does my body move

Move in pain, move in guilt

My casket shadowed, from the wars that I have battled

 

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©6 May 2013 - 4:54am — Anonymous
6 May 2013 - 5:51pm — Mardigan (not verified)
Mardigan's picture

Thank you both. 

Thank you both. 

6 May 2013 - 2:36pm — nightlight1220
nightlight1220's picture

I have an image of a homeless

I have an image of a homeless person with this poem, who is broken, yet putting every effort towards some sort of stabe environment through his/her trials of life. It made me feel compassion. Nice, mardigan.

...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "

 

6 May 2013 - 6:47am — running_with_rabbits
running_with_rabbits's picture

I love the imagery and the

I love the imagery and the way you chose to express the guilt, corrosive, its just so real and raw, that is EXACTLY how guilt feels me, pleasureful read

Much Love

Ashley