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Paul Idiaghe Dec 2020
There’s a holocaust
sweeping through my body
but i call it

strap myself to its stake
as a sacrifice, relish
how its fire

dignifies me,
how the tongue-like torso  
of my scent
rolls out to taste

You, with the hot air
for hair, you
with the sparking skin,
feed my flames,

hearteater, the mouths
on your cheeks
open wide
& I enter, as if to join
the rest of me; see

how all that is left
circulating in my veins
is your voice; my body,
now inanimate,

an instrument for your
its cinders sing like

is the sequel to your stones
thrice striked.
8M Aug 2019
Cinders and ashes cover the ground
Mama and papa nowhere to be found
I scream out loud; no, there's no sound
Oh where, oh where, could they be

Mama and papa nowhere to be found
Could they be singing my lullaby
Oh where, oh where, could they be
Please, cry out that old melody

Could they be singing my lullaby
I shant go far from the truth
Please, cry out that old melody
The song that reminds me of you

I shant go far from the truth
I know they'll be sleeping with stars
The song that reminds me of you
That one last tune from afar
Another day, another pantoum.
Gabriel burnS Apr 2018
Sadists, aren’t we all… abusing that for which we fall…
The way that I’m obsessed… with the fabric of your dress
Although it doesn’t feel as good… as tender skin beneath it would
So it deserves the claws… and lacerated ribbons’ flow…
Of all the fingers, it’s the thumb… that sees the broadest, like the sun
Runs in circles on those knees… the sweet of you I love to read
Yet passion thrives on sacrifice… with aftermaths of melting ice
To treat the paintings on your skin… which lust, in trance, would blindly leave
Like every coin, there are two sides… and truth is tasting both in life…
The things that we adore… our hunger paints in gore
And now you’re in the palms… their lips brush off the calm…
The sinking of the teeth… the flavor underneath...
Mary K Sep 2015
Outside, the world is hurdling on
through space and time and everything else
While our people tear each other to ruins.
Inside, the walls come crumbling down
taking blood and bone along with it
While embers burn to ash in what's left of our minds.
The end of the world is such a concept
Because what's ending?
I can assure you one thing:
Nature existed far before humans arrived
and nature will continue to exist after.
Forest fires rage through countrysides and mountain ranges
But no time is wasted before new trees are growing out of the cinders.
With us, a forest fire rages through our being
and we drown as the flames burn us from inside
until it's too late
And there's nothing to show except a blackened shadow on the ground we once stood
Because we paved over any chance of rebirth when we stoked the fire and gave in.
Natasha George May 2015
Singing to tunes of Cinderella,
not knowing one day I'd listen again;
Tears burning behind these dull hazel eyes,
which have seen the lost
and been the innocent.

Aspects of me now lay in cinders,
you haven't completely burnt me yet.

My throat is parched.
My voice is raspy.
But I'm still here.

So stop
lighting up the fire place,
there's already so much ash up in here!

and just leave me be.
Aspects of me lay in cinders.
My life lays in ashes.
My bones wish to lay in peace.

— The End —