Fourteen Lines

October 9, 2008

originally written in May 2008

I will write chaos into fourteen lines
A raging inferno, the ash begins to fall
The wind is torturous against the walls
Of my beating heart: such wretched confines!

Here I lie. Divided from my bones
My thoughts graze as the cow upon a hill
O! Precious moocow, blinking and still
Eyes glazed over, staring through the unknown

The final act of desperation, fingers curled
Grotesquely; as the night wanes into day
There is one less soul here in the mo(u)rning

Whence does it travel? Surely away from our world
Eventually we’ll all have nothing more to say
Than a kiss and a darkened warning.



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