The Truth Behind Words [Dark Poems ONLY]

Dead trees

A drop of blood splatters on the stone slab--
a kiss of moral respect, a tongue of loath--
from ancient deciduous trees swaying above.
Cascading coldness, of killed, cold, culled souls
twitching agonies of innocents on the branches,
and morning leaves drop.

In the night, shredded curtains, a faded shed of sacrifice,
shrunken skin and summer drops.
Crimson smeared on the cold unfolded lips,
yellow-gold pierced through the gap of judgment, a failed justified abstain smoke
—the toxic nightmare outbursting the humble King's dream.
A silent slumber opposed with a Big Bang
And again... twitching agonies of innocents on the branches,
and morning leaves drop.

Did their blooded mouths talk?
Perhaps you should have sown their lips.
Red seas, gold in the fountains
Poor labour versus rich,
Peels on the dirt, expense on the carpet.
And again... twitching agonies of innocents on the branches,
and morning leaves drop

plop... and another
plop
Scrapes of taw,
Hay from fillies dismissed,
Famine favoured in the air.

Burn, for burn
Wound for wound
Stripe for stripe
and again, morning leaves drop.

It's not that good, I apologise. This was a poem that I wrote for school some months back for an entry for an official school anthology. I'm not entirely sure if they have announced the winner yet, though... It's also unedited and temporarily unfinished, to be honest.

And, again, it's quite an ambiguous poem. I like writing poems that are not exactly clear to the readers. It really makes you think, think a little bit harder. These dead trees represent lost lives who fought for freedom. Basically, this poem is talking about lynching —a horrible punishment that was used in South America — and it also talks about suffering, famine, etc. Where it says: 'the toxic nightmare outbursting the humble King's dream' is actually referring to Martin Luther King who was shot dead due to having moral opinions.