penance

By Taunting The Reaper

of virtue and gargoyles

I count equal measure

ugliness and sin

whispering past pale skinned fruit

like startled zephyrs aching for an escape

 

twilight pitched voices

hovering thankfully over broken bread

spoonfuls of wretched waste lingering

in past shawdows who’ve flourished

beholden to the yelps of drowning horrors

 

why am I so shiny?

what wicked wizardry is this?

weren’t the deep running scars out of breath?

 

bury me in hard tombstone earth

not another sunrise to walk in!

no more anything!

 

savage jungle drums beat me further into foliage

let me wither away into the dry, cracked leaves

of an unforgiving sun

 

this is my penance:

I am fallen husk of tomb

slipped on razor wire while counting the stars

dressed in a clown suit while proselytizing

commandeering a skittish army of field mice

on my best day

slipping on banana peels right before the starters pistol

goes off

 

every misery cautiously nestled amongst idle ticks of a clock

under the watchful eye of a spider

web spun, fly caught

resistance is futile!

 

I’m wishing every lash that whips my back

carves out “disappointed”

until the soiled blood in my veins runs free

seeping into the cavernous ruins of my death

where lowly cadavers hang their swollen heads

in shame and the thick soil keeps them filed away

under “paid in full”

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2013 Taunting The Reaper
Published on Tuesday, January 15, 2013.     Filed under: "Depressed" and "Poetry"
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Comments on "penance"

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  • Magdalena On Saturday, February 2, 2013, Magdalena (616)By person wrote:

    Excellent written piece with great imagery. :)

  • FadedBlues On Wednesday, January 16, 2013, FadedBlues (2172)By person wrote:

    ...battered & dolorous, sorrow like a rock on your shoulders & back, borne of heavy debt...


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