Fait holds best of one answer, DEATH. - 27th February 2006


Demise.

Instant fatigue, slowly.
Away it melts, pulsating.
Permanent, ever-lasting.
Looks now displacing.

Sneaking away.

Blood correspondent.
Red cells, ever white.
Plaster, held on tight,
Fading, corroding.

Prey, safely returning.
Fait, begins burning.
Ashes to ashes,
Blown to crystal.









Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 1283 times
Written on 2006-02-28 at 00:15

Tags Deep  Death 

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purple fire
Strange dark and yet also fascinating,is fait meant to be fate? any way I really like this .
2006-02-28


penfold18
Great write has both strength and impact.
2006-02-28


Zoya Zaidi
John dear you are back to form, sweet heart!
Keep it up!
Love you!
((((Hugs sweetheart))))))

HAVEN'T DONE THAT IN A LONG TIME TO YOU!
I WONDER WHY?

Love, xxx, Zoya
2006-02-28


liz munro The PoetBay support member heart!
LOVE IT!
*BOOKMARKED*
Liz
2006-02-28