A melted dream runs down my eyes
in drips of a scented past
An echo of memory's velvet lies
painted a stain on shadows cast
A trembling of ripples shakes my skin
A breeze from the mind dries dark skies
Flush fresh sewage into a black pond of sin
wearing a bruised smile's disguise
Walking on Egyptian water
whispering willow through willow
A lamb to the slaughter
in a reed basket with a pillow
- Author: sorenbarrett ( Offline)
- Published: June 1st, 2024 03:28
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
Comments3
Ah so extremely beautiful your words, your imagery most intriguing I can see my own vision of your myth 🌹
Thank you Teddy for the kind words of encouragement they are appreciated as always.
A fine write SB.
I'm awful towards KP, but you've given me an idea for her next dinner - 'fresh sewage'.
Woof! Will you ever stop?' Fido asks me. lol.
Make sure it's fresh if it's past its pull date it looses its nutritious value. Thanks Orchi
Wonderful words soren.
Andy
Thanks Gold for the read and kind words
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