My nativity at peril
I wanted to stay away from myself
seeking anonymity in inwardness
Death had drawn a circle
my mode of survival depended on
the hopelessness of life
The ant-hills were growing!
The final assault will take place at night
at spiritual depths.
I will be seething with fake acoustics.
Kissing the blue lips of dawn
night bids adieu.
I will move quietly behind the corpse
A dark tribute to the mother of sorrow.
Flames on river, my body was burning
in blue waves
I was repeating history.
Interesting write.
The last stanza reminds me of our Viking ancestors, who'd put a body on a raft then when it was out on the river take aim with a arrow alight and ignite the raft.
Kissing the blue lips of dawn <--- one of many great metaphors.
Perhaps "..Quiet Storm" will help rekindle old flames buried and long forgotten or express the love so deeply locked inside of your soul longing to be released.
Regardless of where you may be found in love this beautiful masterpiece can be
In the Whirlwind is a poetic storm that frees history from the cages of corruption and puts it in the hands of everyday people. Words are weaved into a new fashion statement that has nothing to do with runways but everything to do with projects!
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The last stanza reminds me of our Viking ancestors, who'd put a body on a raft then when it was out on the river take aim with a arrow alight and ignite the raft.
Kissing the blue lips of dawn <--- one of many great metaphors.
jf
Susan