Dying the Daydreamer's DeathA Poem by Poe ReddI don't write happy endings.The anti-fatal bee-otch stirs Finally stands Finally rises Webs on her breasts Skeletal hands A corpse full of moulded surprises She walks bent over Straightens slow The creaking and cracking of her ancient bones Can be heard from a monstrous mile Breaking, dismantled Crumbles into a horrible pile And smiles. "Beatifull?" "Gorgeous." Says a fair-haired man With a long-lost grin And a sailor's tan "Like the sea at dawn- The hue of your hands. Like diamand dust- The pallor of your lips. Like a king's jeweled sword- The sharp edge to your hips. Come with me, home." A fleet of ships Wait for the man and his rotting mistress She raised a hand and almost lost it Inclined her head and literally dropped it but the man cought it And bundled her up in her dress Then carried her onto the deck Of the Devil's Caress ... The air became thick and hot The crew was laughing behind her Betrayed, forced to walk the plank She fell into the sea of fire.
© 2011 Poe ReddAuthor's Note
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13 Reviews Added on August 31, 2011 Last Updated on August 31, 2011 AuthorPoe ReddOntario, CanadaAboutI'm back!! Will update all this nonsense soon. Much new writing to arrive shortly. Not a place for children. more..Writing
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