The sky's fall
Past the Acheron
Til they are squashed,
Curled into a ball,
Trampled by the moons pockmarked smile.
She winks evanescently,
Fades as bright as the stars.
The broken stars.
The lost stars.
The stars have left
Barely a fleeting falling memory
Their light slithering through the clouds.
A multifoliate chrysanthemum
tumid once
now twice is shrivelled like the lips of the desert
white soft leaves
waved brown
Now thrice is gone,
eaten by the rough teeth of the desert
dried and melted
skeletal
gone.
Then upon the dusted wall
A crooked clock
Held between brick teeth
Crashes into darkness;
Hands move like memories
Like mountains.
An eyeless face through jagged glass
Staring amongst the swept darkness
That fell, cradling our life
In tempestuous fingers.
That we will seep through,
Unwillingly, ineluctably.
Till we are little more than
Nothing.
Their eyes bleed
They feel dread coil and snap
They see the stars.
The chrysanthemum.
The crooked shattered clock,
But their hands are tied
By the sandpaper ropes
of deaths twilight kingdom
Never to intervene
Bound.
Their hands grapple at the ropes
Those who were freed
Paid the fate
Of their ambition,
They wait with Victor
In the arms of the midnight city.
The midnight city,
Where rats pick at flesh
Crows howl to the old moon
Hands soiled, pull blood from snaggleteeth
Yellow eyes beat like hearts
And the sky's fall
Crashing into the Acheron
Bones licked clean by dry flames,
Then our eyes
Close.
YOU ARE READING
Tempest of Life and Love
PoesiaA collection of short, dark, lovesick poems, inspired by T.S Eliot, Mary Shelley, Keats, Shakespeare, and Greek mythology, that explore the fleetingness of life and love // in other words, the feelings I hide beneath a facade. In other words, me pro...
