deepundergroundpoetry.com
Fallen
When I found her
in the graffitied tunnel,
she was cut and bruised,
screaming and tattooed,
her top torn and bloody,
in such a state
of Hell,
and all I could see
was Heaven
in her dying
eyes.
My lips
pressed against hers;
breathe.
My hands
pushing against her
chest;
breathe.
Unresponsive,
silence,
no sirens,
the night;
breathe.
A Harlot
in the arms
of a Poet;
tragic.
in the graffitied tunnel,
she was cut and bruised,
screaming and tattooed,
her top torn and bloody,
in such a state
of Hell,
and all I could see
was Heaven
in her dying
eyes.
My lips
pressed against hers;
breathe.
My hands
pushing against her
chest;
breathe.
Unresponsive,
silence,
no sirens,
the night;
breathe.
A Harlot
in the arms
of a Poet;
tragic.
Published 2nd Apr 2013
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likes 5
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
6th Apr 2013 2:27am
that's a captivating poem. mean life, quick death, love that stands there, helpless...
6th Apr 2013 2:35am
