GorseA Poem by MarshallClinging hard metallic walls with veins sucking sweetness from little leftovers trickling down the gorse stayed dancing between open spaces of hell and heaven. Death like tussle with elements yellow blooms suckled pollen from air vents travelling in the streams passing within reach shedding its seeds into the waiting arms of rare tourist birds sojourning in the skyways of distribution and danger. The gorse started small, spread quickly and took over the countryside with no one watching. The caliphate was born under the black hood of death and the guns aimed at all with scimitars of control too late to stem or seep the spreading venom. Whole armies now sacrificed on the altar of ideals. The crusades will begin again. © . All rights reserved, 2 months ago© 2014 Marshall |
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Added on October 16, 2014 Last Updated on October 21, 2014 Author
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