deepundergroundpoetry.com
Wings?
"Are those wings real?" One might ask
This angel set to demon's task.
The webs she spins with widow's grace,
While hung in it, you watch her face...
A blazing symmetry of lust,
Sparkling like glitter, midst the dust.
The kisses of a seraph sweet
Enough to mask the pure deceit.
You open up to her graced tongue,
Believing all your past woes wrung;
Till lips on neck she bares those fangs
And leave you writhing in the pangs.
Your lifeblood drained, will to live gone;
Soon even hope of death is drawn
To that mystic Insatiate
Ambivalence 'twixt love and hate.
There is no heaven, is no hell,
In the contortions of this spell.
There is no glory, honor, fame.
Not even remembrance of name.
No, that banished in foul decree
Tween was and what could never be,
Daily 'watch yourself disappear.
Your cry, an echo no one hears.
9/25/15
Published 26th Sep 2015
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likes 3
reading list entries 1
comments 5
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
26th Sep 2015 1:41pm
There is a undercurrent of anger and hurt in this one. Maybe not undercurrent. Maybe its more blatant than I am thinking. Its early morning here. Those last two lines show hurt the most though. As usual, your rhyming is impeccable. Sometimes we don't know what we are kissing until we open them up. And sometimes, at that point, we don't care what we find.
1st Oct 2015 3:09am
Lol... yeah, I think its leaning a bit toward the blatant side upon rereading, DPW. Know what you mean about having no idea what you're kissing. Shivers to that statement. Thank you for the visit, and the introspect. Always good to see you here.
Michael
Michael
27th Sep 2015 1:59am
the visuals in this piece is deep... awesome flow Micheal this one definitely fire
1st Oct 2015 3:12am
Yeah, kind of felt my eyebrows singe coming back in and reading it again. Let's hope I can find something a little more soothing to write about next time... lay off the hard stuff a while. :) thanks for the visit, MV.
Michael
Michael
18th Oct 2015 4:54am
