Gentle grace
Creatures assembling bones of thoughtsifting through her mind
impaled her screaming memories
onto this unforgiving moment in time
she burnt all her white paper roses
in the dark as it measured her pain
perverted by the fetish lies
that coursed throughout
her decaying veins
the dogs of hell were snarling
as they brooded behind her face
gorging on the scraps of sanity
that defined the last - of this gentle grace
and humanity just stood and stared
into the aching void of her soul
counted her bones and her teeth
then once again entrusted her
into the arms - of the bitter cold.
And the only recognition afforded
by those who had to stay
the name tag they hung upon her toe
to mark the end of her final day.
© Rik - 20/12/2006
Poetry by Rik
Read 1618 times
Written on 2006-12-20 at 15:19
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