in silken comfort
by paternal tears
my promised daggle in smoky spheres beyond grief stricken gazes
albeit heavily paid for future flights
implored to see no more
insides oozed out.
They cried out
till no longer felt
as my eyes stared forward
remembering how to hack.
remembering the blessings
No lack of honor upon my return.
I burn now in fiery guilt.
No comfort in patchwork quilts laid upon my tattered being
my hope to mentally cope
by mysterious themes.
No longer to dream of kites and clouds.
Beclouded the skies.
Still hear their screams.
Why pray out loud?
Who will hear?
steer us clear of heavenly birds
by actions crude though praiseworthy their words.
What righteousness in darkness kept?
Yes integrity died, or at least like the dead slept.
Absurd to believe
on man’s capability
with greed from green paving the scene.
Poor men pinned to early death’s disease.
Upon my knees I lean
as conscious unclean
bleeds and bleeds
yet my heart still pleads
before I ease myself.”
Resurrect hope back onto my shelf.
in white silk
veils their tears
as doubts plague them.
As the clergyman
after once again
they paid him.
okay, so i want a wonderful poet to shine-
he goes by Briansgate
and his poetry has always moved me
like, across the country of curse words and wow’s
and whoa i wish i could write like that ~
so you have two prompts to choose from, or be inspired by both:
“i can’t taste your bladed tongue.
my slitted veins and gone.
you told me
not to ghost your dreams
you can read the whole poem here: