Poem Hunter


Pushing words away
lest they eat my sleep
become the only part of me
devour those golden hours
which amount to the rest of me
yes, away with dreams and all that seems
possessed to make an end to me

Anesthesia is an art
to which I might at once lay claim
a shallow grave divided
I might just lay between
some token awareness consciousness
which came first coffee or cream
blackout describes the best held dreams

I lit a candle to threaten the stars
but nobody’s laughing in this wayward place
would someone put out the light
stop this ringing in my ears
I am not afraid of the night
but see what is done in the light of day
no... don’t take my candle away

© 2005 Tom (WordWulf) SternerHowe

User Rating: 5 / 5 ( 0 votes )

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.