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David W Jones Nov 2013
Cold winds killing the breath of life;
Lands saturated with the bones of the dead.
Pondering the meaning of so much destruction;
Touching the spirits of mindful watchers
Gazing at the signs.

Thieves waiting for the house to empty.

Words buried beneath poignant sensations
Hidden from the living;
Wishing to resurrect sentiments to share
With the deceased.

Death promised the caterpillar its wings.

Sleep stolen in the midst of regrets;
Situations ferried by the unexplained
Within the fog of nightmares.

Remembering her spirit
Leaving without saying “goodbye”.
David W Jones Nov 2013
I created this place upon the black sand
To feel the contrast against the blue sky.

Windows nothing but hollow places
Displaying the light as it
Passes by.

I listen to the them
Proclaiming the end because
It never comes.

The walls of burning flesh cooled
By her shadow. Revealing
The ink-stained words of my life.

I waited for the rain because
It always does.
David W Jones Oct 2013
In the midst of a feeding frenzy
the hungry masses consuming
pieces of my flesh and bones.

It hurts, to see
portions of my essence
ripped away, chewed and spit out;
my blood dripping from their mouths.

They are killing me
but I refuse to die.
David W Jones Oct 2013
The first
shall be last;
early birds
choking on worms.

Our fallacy made
from lies; our
commitments made
from acrimony.

In darkness, we
hunt for something
palatable; collecting
the wages of sin.
David W Jones Oct 2013
I dream of sleep
with eyes wide open;
it’s always dark
in the morning.

Touching disparity
beneath reckless thoughts;
lines and dots
unconnected.

Everything
looks and tastes identical;
I am starving to death.
David W Jones Oct 2013
Breathless words
Eulogized upon a
Stone.

Flashes of light
Illuminating shadows
Undisturbed.

Emotions lost
Within the unrelenting
Downpour.

Her restless spirit,
Laying next to his
Broken body,

Feeling the cold
Sleep of a heartless
Dreamer.
David W Jones Oct 2013
She returns,
Above the hollows,
Believing change
Is something
And nothing.

She weeps,
Beneath the firmament,
Believing hope
Is meaningful
And meaningless.

Her tears
A thousand
Snowflakes.

Thoughtless winds
Fragmented
A butterfly’s wings.
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