#phlegethon
Midriff burning sensation,
Exactly as if it will explode,
Nocturnal timings help,
Stark daylight is undesirable,
Troublesome five days,
Ripe burning inside the temple of life,
Under the wicked sky,
Awry is the cup for collection,
Lopsided is its construction.
Cusping the proof of life,
Unfailing burning sensation,
Pouting by the end of a month.
Aug 19, 2021
Aug 19, 2021 at 10:46 AM UTC
No moon showing her lustrous wonder
No stars set ablaze
Only clouds sounding of thunder
Plunging rain greeting my gaze
Drops tasting of flame and damnation
Through a gap a gossamer star palpitates
Lonely and lost in its constellation
Only dolorous moans encapsulate
Gasping at fetid air
Face gurgling above scalding blood
Phlegethon, river of despair
My flesh becomes the mud
A figure appears over the precipice
A living body one that is whole
A lost man seems not necessitous
None that can help this tortured soul
A half horse is with he
Bow strung aimed at me
Risen higher than I should be
Arrow loosen my flesh stings
Awaken in sweat, four walls surrounding
A guilty conscience stewed this dream
Enclosed in darkness, alone, wailing
Recurring... haunting... blaspheme...
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 6:29 AM UTC