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Re-Born
By Iwas
The rage.
Like blood coagulates.
Turning black.
On the hands
it stains.
Lasting pain.
Which will not fade.
Must
make peace.
With what remains.
Yet the rain.
May wash
it away.
Leaving the hands.
Completely unscathed.
And
the sun.
Shall shine brighter that day.
As the hands.
Stretch
up from the grave.
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Ask the author first.
Copyright 2012 Iwas
Published on Saturday, May 26, 2012.
Filed under:
"Poetry"
Comments on "Re-Born"
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A former member wrote:
Indeed. I enjoy the word coagulated. It's a particular favorite of mine, True Blood and all. "SOOKIE." Okay, sorry. That was pointless. Anyway, I enjoyed the realization of bloody hands and even more, the raising up of the hands. Sorry, if it wasn't supposed to be anything like zombie hope, but I totally went there. A very interesting write. Really made me think. Thank you.
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On Sunday, May 27, 2012, dwells
(4177)
wrote:
Threw me when I tought I had it pre-figured out, I was expecting the hands reaching upwards to pray. I guess maybe only death can cure some rage, but try not to let it consume you. Well done, immensely, thanks.
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A former member wrote:
Really good thanx for sharing
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On Sunday, May 27, 2012, Devilish
(2633) wrote:
Iwas.. I love your leisure and class A poetry.. hello there you .. stranger. you smell oh so good to me tonight. =)
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On Saturday, May 26, 2012, Malice In Wonderland
(976) wrote:
always a light at the end of the tunnel. lovely.
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