Black Rose

as we trudge and traipse like an anemic spectral apparition across the elemental savagery that leaves the world in asphalt darkness,crossing this death mask of earth, pockmarked and indented by stygian dreams and crimson agony, shorn of beauty and civlility,we crave for the slighiest glimmer of verdant iridiscence, infallibly outwith our reach, made more lambent in our time-frozen reveries.

yet our pedigree speaks of those far-out ultramundane lineages,
that ride upon our wary soul throughout life's skewed alchemy
and commove us against our recourse to hubristic contumacy
to insatiate ourselves with the ichor from festering lacerations,
bedizening the body of fallen lionhearts and their forsaken effigy.

thus, we deliver the last vestiges of our humanity to the tyburn tree,to ascend from the fallow soil as a cimmerian rose, no seducee of the roseate caress sealing the easterly yonder, but forever forlorn this bloom mocks the providence's flailing abuse
with our dissevering thorn.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Beautiful imagery in the deep dark of the year. Solstice and wordsmithery alike bringing a tincture of brightness to life.
Carol Moore said…
Deeply moving words and imagery. Well written my friend.

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