Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2013
Soft murmurs, calculated breaths,
Sing to your lungs and die,
You slowly start panting,
Heavy breathing, you're wasting it all.
Somebody altered my mind,
Must have been something
In the Whiskey I left out in the open,
There are colors everywhere,
Disguised in lies,
Nothing remains still,
Everyone's eyes are on me,
Stop.
They don't stop.
The string quartet starts playing,
Minor notes and unearthly chantings,
Everyone's eyes are on me,
Stop.
They don't stop.
And I run,
My legs feel like water, boneless,
Stumbling, falling, my heart keeps up the pace,
I'm out in the streets,
The light slowly dims,
The sun has been beaten,
The moon, victorious, grins.
She eclipses the heat and I feel the chill,
They are watching,
All the way down the street,
3.4 miles to the next exit,
They all stare at me,
Stop.
They don't stop.
I feel her tears on my face,
The clouds join the moon,
A mutiny against the sun,
It is raining.
Red, ****** rain.
The stream leadds me down,
To the woods by the old Doctor's house,
The trees glance at me,
They are not bothered by my presence,
They shake their leaves,
I'm not welcome here.
Howling wolves, ancient snakes,
There are eyes among the leaves,
There are eyes in the stars,
There are eyes in every steo I take,
They all stare at me,
Stop.
They don't stop.
The stream ends at a clearing,
Where the rocks pay homage to the moon,
The newly crowned King of the sky,
And at the end of the stream, drinking form the pool,
There's someone there.
She's not looking at me but I feel her watching,
She walks over and runs her hand along my hair,
There's blood dripping from her lips,
Sweet blood from her sweet lips,
And in a magical moment, I taste the blood,
It was you all this time,
I should have known it was you,
I should have known it was you Lucy.
Maharshi Bhattacharya
  730
   --- and halioth
Please log in to view and add comments on poems