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Carnivora (the plants of this land)
she held a lantern of stolen stars
she was the princess who became
prey to the plants of an ancient land
and this is her tale her fable i sing
with bitterness drowned upon wine
. . . . . . .
entwined tightly in thorns
blood stained is her crown
slightly damp is her whispering moans
pain does escape seeping down
on brazen sand she walks
these broken shards of her lantern
cries for blood from her feet
cracked open this land groans
for her essence it moans
this brazen land will not sustain
and she plants yellow grass
in every mound of crumbling clay
they yearn for nonexistent milk
they want it seeping from her breasts
her children of thorns gaze
with misty eyes in disbelief
she slowly but certainly
walks form this land to another
she is lured by smell of water
for her parched thorny children
in that land mysterious and ancient
they sat luring souls with nectar
and music of calm with evil intent
they lured her our princess
of the stolen lantern
in offering they gave her wine
and songs for her tired soul to dance
they sure shall slowly swallow
her weak frame dancing in their orifice
the juices she never had they shall gain
in a bowl of nectar she slowly digests
a plant of ancient time softly sings
soothes her pain and shrouds her in dreams
slowly her blood entwines with the juices
her soul turns into nourishment
for the carnivora of this ancient land
she was the princess who became
prey to the plants of an ancient land
and this is her tale her fable i sing
with bitterness drowned upon wine
. . . . . . .
entwined tightly in thorns
blood stained is her crown
slightly damp is her whispering moans
pain does escape seeping down
on brazen sand she walks
these broken shards of her lantern
cries for blood from her feet
cracked open this land groans
for her essence it moans
this brazen land will not sustain
and she plants yellow grass
in every mound of crumbling clay
they yearn for nonexistent milk
they want it seeping from her breasts
her children of thorns gaze
with misty eyes in disbelief
she slowly but certainly
walks form this land to another
she is lured by smell of water
for her parched thorny children
in that land mysterious and ancient
they sat luring souls with nectar
and music of calm with evil intent
they lured her our princess
of the stolen lantern
in offering they gave her wine
and songs for her tired soul to dance
they sure shall slowly swallow
her weak frame dancing in their orifice
the juices she never had they shall gain
in a bowl of nectar she slowly digests
a plant of ancient time softly sings
soothes her pain and shrouds her in dreams
slowly her blood entwines with the juices
her soul turns into nourishment
for the carnivora of this ancient land
Published 2nd Sep 2011
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Anonymous
3rd Sep 2011 3:46am
enjoyed reading
