Renascentia

When the world ends

the devil may cry

his tears staining-

those dreamers who often lie

with eyes wide open

infected with fear

spreading fire across the retina

till vision slowly blackens

like the coffee stain on your pants

 

reach inside the chasm

stretch those fingers across the veil

hold yourself in that place for a moment

never spared

like the boy that hangs his head around a noose

and feels the life within his bones slip away

fleeting flashes

dance across his synapses

a blue bird chirping on a newly blossomed peach tree

with little thoughts on the innocence wasted

feel him slip into eternal sleep

bound by ancient ropes

not a sound can stir him

nor tears shake him

not even the coffee can help.  

Reviews

[Gracie-San]

Oh, wow, such a dark, melancholy and beautiful piece. Your use of metaphors and imagery really helps the feeling of this poem, not to mention it flows fluently. This was absolutely great!