deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Snuff of Darkness
As I live and breathe
She suffers there
Aloft in the decay of my breath
A late bloomer in the art of sorrow
Curled in pieces she revolts me
Yet I gladly reep her wares
Ripping at bedazzled stitches
The sun shines in the garden of my being
Albeit esoteric
I etch designs upon her grace
Fingers fledge obedience
Still frames of her dying
Lying there idle in the midst of my disgrace
Broken I bay at the moon and forgiveness beckons her hate
She suffers there
Aloft in the decay of my breath
A late bloomer in the art of sorrow
Curled in pieces she revolts me
Yet I gladly reep her wares
Ripping at bedazzled stitches
The sun shines in the garden of my being
Albeit esoteric
I etch designs upon her grace
Fingers fledge obedience
Still frames of her dying
Lying there idle in the midst of my disgrace
Broken I bay at the moon and forgiveness beckons her hate
Published 22nd Sep 2019
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