Sleeping outside of this sleep


Morning has brought grey pleasure of a dampness dank.
My mind is clear, my memory is blank.
The sun has not ascended yet, but the pre-morning twilight
Has embraced all with mist, as if a veil violet.

The feelings which are pulling out of control
Have broken through constraining dam to fall
Down to street together with the drops of blood of mine,
Accepting in the mist the enigmatic outlines.

The wind has brought to me a sip of air,
He has embraced me, he just wants to share,
To try explain to me, to tell me true
About that I this grey morning have to do...

I'm standing on the edge of eaves and evanescence,
Holding in cutting hands a blackest inflorescence
And in the first rays of the rising sun,
I slowly tear off the petals, one by one.

The petals fly downwards, and very slow
Turn in agonal dance, they want to show
Themselves, before they will be mixed with the mud,
They redden and turn into scarlet drops of blood.

I tear off every petal and I think this way:
"I, he, or, maybe she - who'll die today?
Or all blood I have spilled will return back
Into my veins like the flowers black?"


Black Knight/Wanderer_Dragonheart




Poetry by Black Knight
Read 920 times
Written on 2006-01-16 at 18:52

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penfold18
A well written poem BK I like the flow and content well done :-)
2006-01-16