Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I watch the day gently bleed-out to night, Its intangible essence descending deeper now history, From the sun we run in darken cowered gloom, Then gone, sanctimoniously conjuring forgotten mystery, If only I could paint the sky green with agony, Then regress and re-address its call to dark, Or blue like the back of a postage stamp? To arms we fly, to bed to death to disembark, But it’s forgotten torment before we lie, Ahead another morning again to wake alone, Now spent fruit of a wasted liberal cleansing, Walk the carpet, denounce fate; atone, Welcome back the glow of life this day, Beauty will bloom and bask in splendour beneath, Disregard this treacherous luminescence, For this right now, I lay one final wreath.
0
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 1:37 PM UTC
The mourning after
I watch the day gently bleed-out to night, Its intangible essence descending deeper now history, From the sun we run in darken cowered gloom, Then gone, sanctimoniously conjuring forgotten mystery, If only I could paint the sky green with agony, Then regress and re-address its call to dark, Or blue like the back of a postage stamp? To arms we fly, to bed to death to disembark, But it’s forgotten torment before we lie, Ahead another morning again to wake alone, Now spent fruit of a wasted liberal cleansing, Walk the carpet, denounce fate; atone, Welcome back the glow of life this day, Beauty will bloom and bask in splendour beneath, Disregard this treacherous luminescence, For this right now, I lay one final wreath.
albern-stark
Written by
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 1:37 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem