Páginas

domingo, 10 de março de 2013

Obsolet



An english sonnet with Poenish influences.

Obsolet

Letters upon letters in the book
I can’t describe this pain I feel
As if I’m gripped by a giant hook
Flesh pierced so easily by hot steel.

Ancient wounds that hurt and took
So much time to scar and heal
Once again bleed like a lazy brook,
Red running waters of sickness and ill.

Words under words, I dig the paper
For lucid thoughts that I can save
Or a heart of gold that makes me brave.

Again that courage turns in to vapor
To later fuse in an ocean wave
To later sprinkle my empty grave.

Nenhum comentário:

Postar um comentário