Behind funereal lights
My eyes dim the day
How I walk on my way
As The Observer
Set far bereft
With the tenures of death
My presence infects
The Observer
But silhouette smiles
Began to deject
For twenty-four minutes by the fire
And tears more profound
Than the breaths which inspire
Were melded with the waves of the sound
Reflection
Oh, reflection
Who is this man?
With a strong brow
And real-estate eyes
The mirror was wrecked
In a spiritual hex
Now the only face
I can't check is mine
Remember, you lovers
With roads paved in gold
Highways will lead you to suburbs
While you're grounded on earth
Look up to the sky
And there you will find
The Observer
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Author:
Unobtrusive Sun (
Offline) - Published: October 6th, 2018 17:35
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 21
Offline)
Comments2
Enjoyed this, had to read a couple of times, very mysterious from beginning to end... Nice work!
Thanks! I cannot lie, I'm terribly drawn to the mysterious and symbolic when it comes to writing. I really appreciate it!
You have a way of telling a story in prose.
A story of being. A story of the unseeing.
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