The trees burn with desire,
As I ran down the forest,
Feet bare,
And hands unfair.
Everything was watching me,
With hungry eyes,
Longing a taste of my flesh
-- flesh that tasted like wine.
The Gods glared me down,
Knowing what I had done,
But I was not ashamed,
To have a dirty soul
Baring many secrets
As old as time itself.
A deer longed to pierce me,
With its crown of ribs.
And wolves wished to feast on me,
Deliver me to death, unaware.
The air wanted to push me,
Down a very high hill
With no defined end,
Or a bottom to hold me still.
Nature and God was against me,
Regretted nursing me,
Regretted singing songs to me.
But I was not ashamed.
Not even when they called me
A mad man,
Burning on fire
With feet that never relaxed,
And hands that never steadied.
What was I supposed to do?
Cower at their bare teeth?
Take in the marks they left me?
Let them bleed me to death?
I will not take it,
For I am a mad man.
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Poems
Poetry"The universe kissed the stars, who birthed a galaxy of new beginnings." The only way to express beautiful and cynical thoughts is through the delightful invention of simple, and yet complex, poetry. My poems never end, have no defined theme and st...
