Graveyard Vanity
cool silent graveyard intoxicationtantalizing liquid fixations,
stumbling serenity through graves,
drunk disorientation makes me brave.
at peace with my vodka resolution;
ghosts crowd brittle brain impression;
mist moderates responsible anger
colliding with dependent depression
leading nestled tombstone to hold.
from sin we spawn, from sin we mold.
badger wretched wallow in cold stone
through self dark path I walk alone
and the demons smell my sorrow,
aiming to acquire what I borrowed.
from the crypt they shall arise,
I sense the anger of red eyes;
good intentions; invalid innocence
bleeds excuses as my line of defense.
cemetery forgery, Satan's seduction
sets the tone for death's construction,
monster slashing life's long retreat,
obliterating remains of my conceit.
channel surfing burden creeps daze;
envy lucidity to those who give praise.
vanity, vanity, why have you forsaken me;
to weak to fight falling to my knees.
yet somehow I always knew I was wrong;
chose to live it my way, headstrong.
Poetry by aliceramone
Read 732 times
Written on 2007-03-05 at 04:30
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