29 grudnia 2011

poezja

Al Burke
Al Burke

that place

To that wasteland did we escape
oh what secrets dragged with,
into embraces did fall
beggars past curfew,
feeding on any embrace
lonely-desperate-entities drawn
war-ies traded; sorrow and comfort
entwined, realisation dawned!

lost in that land, selfish spoilt, death pointing
snickering, choices made! ! !
crawled up out;
body strained to end!
little by little-

the filthy foul incidious trench-
rats and disease rife
deep and dark, yet warm
folly! many cowered safe!
flirting behind its shadowery form,
others, waiting to charge
to crawl up out;
waiting.......

war waged in that
wasteland, darkness hovered,
eager to devour; succumb
many did!
 
 

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