Limb
February 25, 2009
This useless limb can crack and twist, in infinite repetition. In between this thing and the shadow of a thousand doubts, however stacked in fever. This dream repeats to your catching seize, and burns and burns on open seas and slumber breaks as ashes float from lash to lash. The terror rolls on waves, you see, and settles down to sunken graves.
nice poem. i love it.
Thanks for the kind words.
You put your words into such colourful pictures, it’s almost difficult not to see it. Nice work indeed!
Thanks, Bomi. I’m glad you like it.