pomegranate nectar

acid washed dreams

outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
is where we buried the years six feet below.
all of the magic clung to the tragic
and we knew it was not time yet to go.


but of all the love,
i would not erase a single thing.
all of the memories,
i want to remember everything.


we saw Aphrodite serenade a dove,
and Eve, dripping scarlet nectar from her mouth.
and everything seemed so succulent
even through the drouth.


when we looked into the heaven's eyes,
i saw my own rebirth.
understanding the purity,
fearing its responsibility,
we followed the footsteps
of the first woman on earth.

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saiom's picture




as a footnote, thanks for rhyming tragic with magic





lizardking's picture


heaven and hell both scare me. i want purity, but i also want to run. there is no in-between. i'll choose heaven though, cause i don't want to regret losing the meaning of life for something fleeting

rose's picture

life is fleeting

life is fleeting

lizardking's picture

depends on your definition of

depends on your definition of life. physical life, yes. but spirit lives forever.