The Death of One

The Death of One

A blood orange moon hangs above
an ashen willow tree
underneath a path of cremated things.
Through the rotton remains
of something strange.
Descending down in thick black coils of mist
like snakes that move and twist , to the
Dark City where only death exists.

In each crosswalk , pushing past the cloned
cattle that crowd the street , going to slaughter
at the holy temples where they meet.
Down the parkway where every door painted red is
adorned with shrunken heads.
Bad religion holds dominion over those of
delusional opinions.

Coming upon a single oil lamp
shrouded in gloom above  a blackened door
heavy as a tomb.
Enshrined with cellar vines
decaying with corpse fed roots
that hang obtuse.

As the door struggles inward , the wind breathes shallow
candlelight throws shadows on the family congregation .
Slender  yellow eyes quiver ,
leer and lurch from atop their perch on a
mountain of belief , held upon pillars of salt
that crumble
thats faith
a cancer , feeding on the brain
no healing
just stealing life ,
til gravity gives ground to the
illusion .

From behind the blackened door
at the gate  , be brave and wait . From the living to the dead ,
the slurred screams of endearment echo in my head .
A confession of confinement to your
death bed where you have been led into the darkness
that holds you.  For the moment far from the reach of pains
enrollment.  Memories will soon replace constraint and grow in the light
of the tunnel to free  you from the exhaustion of this lifes struggle.
You will soon know peace through deaths release.

                                                                                                                     SinisterBeast72  01 / 2015

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deepinyourdreams's picture

I liked the write, quite

I liked the write, quite visual.


SinisterBeast72's picture

Thank you for kind words 

Thank you for kind words