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A Crimson Mist
By monalisamarie
Loneliness and I, we keep each other
Company throughout the longest night
Soon the sun rises and it is day
The hour of us made of clay
Hope is dying on the ground
A crimson mist swirls around
Insert the scalpel into the mud
Proclaim the beauty of our blood
Tonight the night is the most dark
Tonight the heart is taken apart
How beautiful is the pouring rain
How much more can we tolerate?
Death slid her fingers through my ribs
Ripped them open to expose my hands
They were clutching my heart, such feeble things
Staring at a symbol wondering what it means
Hope is dying on the ground
A crimson mist swirls around
Insert the scalpel into the mud
Proclaim the beauty of our blood
The wages of sin is death, so when shall I be paid?
Melancholy a food forbidden to be craved.
O my eyes will not cease crying
O my body will not cease dying
Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited.
Ask the author first.
© 2006 monalisamarie
Comments on "A Crimson Mist"
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A former member wrote:
I love the feeling in this poem!!!! pleasee do write on!!
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On Monday, April 17, 2006, LiP Stiches
(42)
wrote:
"The hour of us made of clay ".......NICE!B .E. A. U. tiful!!!!!!!!!!! I do enjoy this poem for all these emotions and imafges that swirl in cahos..I LVOE IT!!!!!!!!!!
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On Monday, April 17, 2006, Equinox Asylum
(140) wrote:
'The wages of sin is death, so when will I be paid.' Brilliant line.
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A former member wrote:
Cremson?
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A former member wrote:
intense and mind-capturing....very thought provoking also, indeed. magnificent in every way.
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