Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Scarlet Massacre

Hand me to the laid graves,
Lie beside me till I reach to the closure,
Throw behind the left overs of the moments,
The wondered melodies so soft are so penchant,

Displacing the water filled with all the weight of doings,
Craving hard to shrug off any chance of wrong upbringings,
Top it up let it spill to the broken stairs,
Ill be watching over the dance through my empty chair,

One to the top and two the bottom of the well,
Touching the ear with warm hands where the thoughts dwell,
Swiped insignificantly the last of the dropped wine of the table,
Horses were massacred happily in the dreamy stable,

Sometimes that left this open in their enclosure,
Waiting to be wrapped in the blanket of guilt with pleasure,
All amazed by the shining red light of the decision,
I am all alone with the broken knife and her precision,

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