Submissions by Q150267E

While the demons dance on the dendrites.  
With perfectly lust-raptured delights.    
Who drink the drinks of honey,            
Throwing barmen all their money,          
And colouring the street of the nights.

Three years ago
I stood on that edge,
But it feels like
Three weeks ago.

A damp early morning
With that skin-cutting wind,
But it feels like
A night so recent.

It was an emotion-full hour
With that lead-heavy heart,
But it feels like
It was only the last.

One hell of a minute
With that burning stomach,
But it feels like
One minute just gone.

The worst pain in a second
With that ephemeral stab,
But it feels like
The here and the now.

Three years ago ...

Once a gripping hand
Now
Words of nothing.

Boxes of holding on
Now
Full of void.

Logic the rock
Now
Sheared and falling.

Slipping is the best
Of you,
Me,
And all.

Life is dying
It absorbed the spear-end;  
The last great tragedy
Of the last Century.

First a weeping wound
Now
Rivers of loss.

Suffocation,
A pain in the heart,
Living to exist
And existing to erode the veins.

Felt by all today
Swept away the next ...