Disease

[Zar 696]

Disease

 

It lingers on my hand,

the imprint and bruise

from the weight of the band.

 

Black, dark, my mind at ease

surely comes the mark;

white as ghost ready to please.

 

"Sensible," "reasonable" words in my head;

the galloping of red horses cursing the dead.

 

Tonight I dine with constant peril

"too bad," "to late"

Your vigor; sterile.

 

The scream; a grommet

what can I do?

I bend in pain, the message still true.

 

Beasts of asperity circle the globe,

clouds of death spearing the agoraphobe.

 

Am I at my bound?

I stub to crumble

But, still not a sound.

 

To late, to never,

I sit forever.

[Speedskater 167]

seriously i like it, its deep. but what were you thinking about when you wrote that?

Edited December 12, 2007 by speedskater

[Protoman 56]

I really liked the beginning, not so much the ending :D

[Cripp 167]

That was pretty cool. :ermm: i dont like poetry tho....