As your throat is cut
And the last drop flows from your veins
As your eyes close
And no energy in your body remains
As you mind drifts away
And blackness is all that you see
When nothingness takes over
Let your last thought be of me
- Author: sorenbarrett ( Offline)
- Published: July 21st, 2022 13:18
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
Comments1
erm, this is a little scary
may i ask
what is it, your muse
did
to be subjected, to such
a ritualist - form
of assassination
is this
some kind of Halal, mercy?
lol
(flipped it on ya, eh?
forgive me
for being rude, hope
you can understand
why I turned to humour
to take the obsidian edge
of these, rather bleak
read
dear cherished Poet)
thanks for sharing
Thank you L. B. for your review and comment. Yes I was hesitant to post this but it has a deeper meaning. It should be titled A poet's memories. When words are stopped as by a cut throat and every drop of inspiration is drained the rest becomes apparent.
ahh ok, so less literal
phew...
and yes those cut throat's
drain us, of something much more
precious than our money or time
usually, the dispirited state
we're left, after dealing with all their Bul sht
puts us out of commission for a long while
kinda like, that bitter aftertaste
of a pint from the bottom of the barrel
just before it gets changed, you scowl
and promise yourself, you're
just gonna stick to lager's instead
at least there's no mistaking
those barrel bottom thin heads;
until, you get a fresh cold one
in your hand again..
then the feel returns
and the games, begin
again...
lol
stay Strong! dear cherished Poet
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.