death (Remove filter)
last time
Mouth dry as an Egyptian coffin
I lie, a heap of ashes in your arms
Young passion is so wet and green
in age it darkens into smoke and bone
Smoulder up to death’s dark curtain darling
Dust to dust you always will be mine
My heart, a fire pit of braziers burning
Who knows when it is for the final time?
Wednesday 22nd June 2011 2:52 pm
Recent Comments
Russell Jacklin on Mob Rule Mentality
12 minutes ago
Stephen Gospage on Target
2 hours ago
Jon on Innocents' Deadly Foe
4 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Good to be back!
4 hours ago
Mike McPeek on A Somewhat Short Poem About Almost Nothing
7 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Finedon
11 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Haiku for 2025 [No. 28. Politic-toc-tic-toc-tic toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic]
12 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on When Genocidal savagery meets the useless outrageous ignorance of closed eyes
13 hours ago
LEON STOLGARD on When Genocidal savagery meets the useless outrageous ignorance of closed eyes
14 hours ago
LEON STOLGARD on Target
14 hours ago