Oh those beautiful eyes
Drenched in death
The symbol of eternal hereafter
A cross engraved in sprightly fingertips
Spread across ages of pages
Words and numbers
Codes and underestimation
The scriptures of god unto thee
Unto me
Printed knowledge
Expressions of the fair Prioress
The virgin for "He" which knows best
Why waste time in that which must not be discussed
Is there such importance in generational illness?
When it all fades to black,
what matters?
Is it weekly visits to creaky old buildings, covered in faded glass surrounded by the dogma from above?
Is it yellowed papers of ancient stories told again and again?
Is it the whispers and chants spoken before meals?
Is it whimpering ambition?
Is it now?
Or was it then?
When everything is lost
When all is said and done
The only empty hand is our own
No more guide
No sweaty palms and sour satisfaction
No unknown
No desperation
Just nothing
Silent
Taken to a world of blissful and motionless slumber
Six feet under
YOU ARE READING
No More Seasons
PoetryThese are just little poems that I've written! :) Each one is different, some are more professional while other are just accumulations of my thoughts..
