Death sleeps in my bed
a lover untouched
Betrothed to my longing
a virgin as such
She waits for a signal
as time closes in
To open her wings
— and fly me to Him
(1st Book Of Prayers: August, 2024)
Censored To Oblivion
The half cost of silence
is still overpriced
Each question unspoken
a chasm for vice
When blind to the moment
all vision exhausts
Each voice that is muted
— its own holocaust
(Dreamsleep: August, 2024)
-
Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: August 19th, 2024 09:18
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments3
Excellent write
Thanks Tony
You're welcome
Both lovely cleverly poetic in image and rhyme. A sense of darkness with the first and a feeling of a need to speak up against what is not right. Beautiful
Always a pleasure for me when you read ....
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.