Brief, Caught I

Brief, Caught I

A Poem by Simstar

Brief, caught I, the scent of my funeral pyre
Built by those without sense of that cleansing fire
That will have it's revenge on such spare limbs as I can recruit
To make dying not an end but a desire.
So, my words ebb away on marvellous air, for the dead don't speak
And those words that might destroy, can be re-cast in a comfort that may seek
Nobility, in a heart of darkness that still bears a spark
Like the pure love of a stranger that still leaves it's mark
Like a kiss from the other world, languorous and sensual
An embrace in the chaste dark
And final thought, insensible.

© 2015 Simstar


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Added on January 1, 2015
Last Updated on January 1, 2015

Author

Simstar
Simstar

Writing
Paen Paen

A Poem by Simstar


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A Poem by Simstar