Fall

Gangrene fall, dead with marching men,
drifts and breaks beneath a sulfurous sky.
Ladders sink deep in the cold mud,
feet are blistering and grey men die
in rain's raw flurry.

It is the sign of a dying world
that meets the sea, it is a flawed gum
that ruminates in marshes of decay;
an army of ignorant fools drowns
in the mist of lost dreams.






Poetry by Bob
Read 575 times
Written on 2010-11-15 at 11:05

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John Ashleigh
Indeed, this is very clever. Thankyou for writing this.
2010-11-15


Awenlimobor Sylvester
Beautiful Bob! Brilliant!.....There was a reason i still came back here
2010-11-15