deepundergroundpoetry.com
It away
The touch of blade to noble skin
as such it fades to soak in sin
as much as or more even than
the touch of blade to morbid skin.
Our spring is meeting us too soon,
while winter’s keeping ‘way the bloom,
blossoming so inopportune.
Release my guilt hand Vernal moon.
Cast down this moon and lift the sun
I can only count to one
but within my hands I hold none
to carry this moon into the sun.
as such it fades to soak in sin
as much as or more even than
the touch of blade to morbid skin.
Our spring is meeting us too soon,
while winter’s keeping ‘way the bloom,
blossoming so inopportune.
Release my guilt hand Vernal moon.
Cast down this moon and lift the sun
I can only count to one
but within my hands I hold none
to carry this moon into the sun.
Published 7th Apr 2013
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7th Apr 2013 10:43pm
Well done poem. You have a gift for rhyme, which I don't. Almost makes me jealous. You also are talented with the use of images, like carrying "this moon into the sun." Remarkable poem. Thanks for letting me read it.
marcella1
marcella1
7th Apr 2013 11:08pm
8th Apr 2013 7:32am
8th Apr 2013 5:01pm
11th Apr 2013 9:43pm
