03 September 2012

The Mean Reds, A Challenge

a little speck of dust
in the cold morning
on the path to my death
enveloped by the deep
dark, terror of the shadow
is the black body radiation
that cannot escape
even after every last drop of life
has been squeezed from our veins
and only the powder of our bones
remain
in the cold morning
on the path to my death



Challenge V: The Mean Reads
 citybuoy   
 ןıuǝ oɟ ɟןıƃɥʇ  
 Spiral Prince 

3 comments:

  1. Death. The dark lord everybody fears.

    Our neighbor's lola died yesterday. Was a sad death too.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Death can really be frightening at some point.

    ReplyDelete
  3. i wonder if it changes your positions if i told you the poem is not about death

    ReplyDelete