Feb 2014
Singing bells tell the sun to sleep
an empty street is suddenly full
lives continue in the bustling crowd
the sky blushes indigo.
An empty street is suddenly full
sirens blare and people scream
the sky blushes indigo
smoke billows and fire rages on.
Sirens blare and people scream
twisted metal and blood
smoke billows and fire rages on
I feel the crisping heat on my skin.
Twisted metal and blood
is this the true meaning of horror?
I feel the crisping heat on my skin
I cannot tell if it is imaginary.
Is this the true meaning of horror?
Everything spins,
I cannot tell if it is imaginary.
The monster prowls towards me as I run in vain.
Everything spins,
I skitter along the ground
The monster prowls towards me as I run in vain.
nature takes it’s course.
I skitter along the ground
brushing leaves with my golden touch
nature takes its course
a new seasons spring up below me
Brushing leaves with my golden touch
life and death swirl and switch,
a new season springs up below me
the cold watches from the shadows, waiting.
Life and death swirl and switch,
lives continue in the bustling crowd
the cold watches from the shadows, waiting
singing bells tell the sun to sleep.
an empty street is suddenly full
lives continue in the bustling crowd
the sky blushes indigo.
An empty street is suddenly full
sirens blare and people scream
the sky blushes indigo
smoke billows and fire rages on.
Sirens blare and people scream
twisted metal and blood
smoke billows and fire rages on
I feel the crisping heat on my skin.
Twisted metal and blood
is this the true meaning of horror?
I feel the crisping heat on my skin
I cannot tell if it is imaginary.
Is this the true meaning of horror?
Everything spins,
I cannot tell if it is imaginary.
The monster prowls towards me as I run in vain.
Everything spins,
I skitter along the ground
The monster prowls towards me as I run in vain.
nature takes it’s course.
I skitter along the ground
brushing leaves with my golden touch
nature takes its course
a new seasons spring up below me
Brushing leaves with my golden touch
life and death swirl and switch,
a new season springs up below me
the cold watches from the shadows, waiting.
Life and death swirl and switch,
lives continue in the bustling crowd
the cold watches from the shadows, waiting
singing bells tell the sun to sleep.
This poem is a pantoum. It's a style of poetry where each line is repeated twice. Lines 2 and 4 are repeated until the very last stanza, where the 1st and 3rd lines of the first stanza become the 2nd and last lines of the last stanza.
