I say;
The drifting rain dissolves sea salt
Turning tears into a dangled monsoon
Under the bleak ballad of dying dawn
Where I long for heat unbroken
You say;
The drifting rain drenches my tiptoe
Witching smiles into the deranged equinox
Upon the downpour of ancient daybreak
Where I pray for old snow long sunk
All was as if the days faded
And morphed into younger sunset
It was as if mercy was drained
And no one preaches as desired
The downpour stench though remains constant
Of rotting perfume of the rouge graphite
You drowsily drip from dowsing fingers, they lit
Into pages of burning, dancing melodious lads
As well, you may keep those imageries for you
And give up old stories as my slumber lyre
Whether it is about the burnt down marching boy
Or the bloodstained pianist from our ancient joy
For the bleak heart aesthetic
has affected a new kind of love
And the bleak heart aesthetic
would never let you feel so certain
So please keep your drifting rain of strings
During the downpour of the deranged equinox
When the snow goes black and slowly sunk
Into pages of firepit melodious lads.
Written by: Noandy
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YOU ARE READING
Silent Muse Poetry
Poetrypoetry /ˈpəʊɪtri/ "Something regarded as comparable to poetry in its beauty. (Collection of poems and prose) Dear, who you might be I hope one day you give your heart to someone and they will hold it tight as if it's their own. I hope one day you wa...