Life is music, the pianist demented, the listener insane
|
|
|
|
|
Written by Mynona
|
|
Saturday, 22 October 2005 |
Another poem written by me. It's not entirely worksafe and should be considered with that in mind. On the other hand, nothing I've ever written can be constituted as sane in any way shape or form.
Can you see him?
Black robed
White boned
Rail thin
Can you feel him?
Polished ivory
Dried flesh
Smooth skull
Can you hear him?
Swishing cloth
Tapping fingers
Creaking joints
Dare you disturb him?
Rotten corpse
Blank look
Yellow teeth
Dare you listen?
Broken music
No breath
Cracked chest
Dare you follow?
Life lust
Death wish
Sick mind
Would you ask?
Hurt me
Free me
Kill me
Would you beg?
Save me
Leave me
Help me
Would you say?
Not now
Not here
Not me
 |
Subscribe to this comment's feed