deepundergroundpoetry.com
Color the Sky
The edge shown silver
swinging down in the light of the moon
singing a song
dancing a dance
dodging right and sweeping left
The stroke of steel
clean as the stroke of a brush
and in the air I found my canvas
to fill in the thousand shades of my lust
Color the sky
paint it red
beyond the moon
bleeding through sunlight
We were merely sleepwalking
through the world of the dead
Hundreds of times I tried to warn you
thousands of years and the stars still watch
countless days and endless nights
fleeing, burning, and bleeding
seeing, hearing, and nonbelieving
Feeding lies and eating dust
building temples and seeing rust
Color the sky
paint it red
In our darkness
we flirt with death
We fixed those who were never broken
we healed those who have never suffered
turning the hunter into the hunted
changing water not to wine
but into mud and dirt
We were merely sleepwalking
through the world of the dead
swinging down in the light of the moon
singing a song
dancing a dance
dodging right and sweeping left
The stroke of steel
clean as the stroke of a brush
and in the air I found my canvas
to fill in the thousand shades of my lust
Color the sky
paint it red
beyond the moon
bleeding through sunlight
We were merely sleepwalking
through the world of the dead
Hundreds of times I tried to warn you
thousands of years and the stars still watch
countless days and endless nights
fleeing, burning, and bleeding
seeing, hearing, and nonbelieving
Feeding lies and eating dust
building temples and seeing rust
Color the sky
paint it red
In our darkness
we flirt with death
We fixed those who were never broken
we healed those who have never suffered
turning the hunter into the hunted
changing water not to wine
but into mud and dirt
We were merely sleepwalking
through the world of the dead
Published 5th May 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 2
reading list entries 0
comments 3
reads 642
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
6th May 2015 4:23am
6th May 2015 5:55am
intruder in the nightlands. feeling the ancient warrior in this, carving the air w/her blade...
14th May 2015 7:29am
Feels like the after, spirits walking in the remnants of a world that used to be, or what remains of the bodies, wandering about to examine what they once called life.
