SH ( / )


Twisted leaf falling
disintegrated faith,
in the echoes calling
stars fading in your wake.
Songs of pleasure ringing
sounding in heathen ears,
in my decadence
I am fearing;
nothing will remain.

And I am twisted
clutching at the wind,
a reverent lullaby catches,
only to let me break.
Careless little fingers
crush my fragile spine
holding me together,
to whisper at me coldly;
holding me together
by a whisper

User Rating: 5 / 5 ( 0 votes ) 1

Rudyard Kipling


Comments (1)

Much enjoyed. A kind of earthy honesty in an olde English style of writing Steve 10+++++++++