Bones

 

 

 

By shadowy mystical beasts of prey,
False fleshy facades have been peeled.
Now the skeletal truths; the bones of my soul,
To this ignorant world, revealed.

Down to the pith,
I've been picked clean;
Now my purpose
Can truly be seen.

Let purifying rays of light
Burn this carcass and make it gleam,
Until I'm a terrifying sight;
A ghost amidst Earth's blues and greens.

Let me be bleached
By the sun's light,
So my message
Can slice through fierce night.

When this striking masterpiece is made;
When my message is sculpted and done,
Dishonest fiends will avert their dark eyes
At the sight of bones bleached in the sun.

Reviews

[Kevin Vorshak]

'Down to the pith,
I've been picked clean;
Now my purpose
Can truly be seen.'

I like this piece, cap, especially the above referenced stanza. I do, though, wonder if you intended pealed or peeled. Thanks for sharing.

[Poeticpiers]

bleached bones are what you leave behind
When your soul leaves I'm sure you'll find
When you fly free of gravity
and you can see what is to be.
When you have solved the mystery
Dying my friend is not the end
Life's just a game of lets pretend.