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The Last Thoughts of a Plague Burdened Maiden
A heaving breath sends waves across her breasts;
beneath fertile seas the hidden wind ascends
and finally falls victim to absence.
Hollow in both heart and lungs,
awaiting the vapors of the poison scent:
a rotten effluvium, the morbid stench of misery.
Overtaking the senses with a drunken lust;
Thrown into a fit of pain and fear and ecstasy.
Consciousness is recalled,
dark dimensions smear and fornicate;
she lay, in the darkness of her weighted vision,
afraid to pray what’s stamped upon her bloodied lips.
The muddy abscess reveals a base sensation;
a perforated canvas,
prepared, at last, for the immortal artist.
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Pretty dark
Posted Jun 13, 2009
This, as usual was deep and dark - it toys with the reader and takes him on an interesting journey. It is so deep that it holds many different meanings and this always intrigues me when reading a poem.
One of my problems when writing poetry is that Ioften get too comp... (
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