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Amanda Kay Burke Apr 2020
Shadow coveted by dancing demons dark
Yearning to reunite with hell
As quietness leaves its damning mark
Satan calls
He knows me well

Under the smooth canopy of night
While black air shelters evil
Red blinking eyes the solitary light
At depth of awakened upheaval

Do not fear the monsters plaguing sleep
Alive as you walk through the day
So you can ignore the wickedness deep
But there's no running away
This is open to interpretation. I would love to hear what it brings to your mind.  Personally I wrote it about addiction.
Devika Sajeev Jun 2019
i leaped
from branch, to branch
and i could see the tiny holes
on the underside of leaves
and i could see the tiny scars
on the underside of branches

as soft as a child's
as hard as the branches
eyes reflecting the sky
speckled with birds trying to fly higher

i'm taking home with me
slowly tossing it up
watching as it grew branches and leaves
falling on to its soft edges
softened by time and touch
i'm taking home with me

i'm taking home with me
i don't know
Jan Apr 2019
Into the dense canopy of a bamboo forest.
It smelt of spring on the summer leaves.
A silence accompanied our little stroll,
Each word we spoke came back as an echo.
A full moon looked down on us, the breeze blew bringing hints of muted snow.
I leaned Onto your shoulder and thought "this was too good to last"
Gary Brocks Sep 2018
There was the tremor of leaves,
a rustle of bayonet grass
parried the multihued calm
of dawn's smeared light.
"This is what we trained for," the captain said.
We hunkered behind stacked bags of sand.

Filigreed shafts of light pierce
the bullet perforated leaf canopy,
bellowed yells punctuate the swirl
and buffet of turbulent air:
“Contact”,  “2 O’Clock”, “Incoming”, “
"Moving”, “Reloading”, “Ammo”.

Fingers twitch, the grit of soil
twisted through their grip;
moon slashed carcasses glint, spent shells,
Earth exhales a vermillion mist,
rising, echoless, in this
a cathedral of leaves.
It gets lonely at the top
But not upon me
You should be the only gorgeous elve in the magical canopy
I almost don't want a mortal man out of me
Just to spend immortality with you
as intense sunlight
cut through the forest's canopy
it left dappled shade
We don't have to walk far
Under the cover of canopy
To find exposure.
Once outside the city,
Outside the usual framework,
Outside the boundaries of polite necessity,
We can truly breathe.
On the trail
I bathe in dust
And my hands converse with trees
When asking for support.
Nursing logs remind us
Where we stand
In an ancient cycle,
And we can confess anything.
Stripped down to our bare humanity.
It's the intimacy
I used to chase in pillow-talk,
But without the dance.
The trail is always a soul's journey,
Whether solo or shared.
10/22 Inktober prompt: Trail
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