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deepundergroundpoetry.com
Silhouetted in Concerto
A thorn of a rose to cut...
bleed for, grasping my soul
where weeds grow once red
now dripping wisteria
dark as the lipstick of your blood
now a burlesque show
silhouetted in concerto
fodder for the dead...
in deep corridors of my mind
rolling over in my grave
as I look at grey skies
large as glaring eyes
bleed for, grasping my soul
where weeds grow once red
now dripping wisteria
dark as the lipstick of your blood
now a burlesque show
silhouetted in concerto
fodder for the dead...
in deep corridors of my mind
rolling over in my grave
as I look at grey skies
large as glaring eyes
Published 26th Feb 2024
| Edited 27th Feb 2024
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