Saturday, June 11, 2011

The 33rd Breath


Facing towards the drowning sun,
Filled his stainless pain in a gun,
And felt the cold taste of death
Digging his way to the 33rd breath

Astounded by the pace of thoughts,
Shivered as he melted the clots,
Of the days he crawled seeking warmth,
And of the days he ran into the dark.

Dreamt; the day when his eyes burned green,
Switched his 4 chambers to a guillotine theme.
Felt the tears of his pestering soul
Burning through his wounds of desire.

Saw; the day, he hung his head,
Broke the ten commandments and pled.
Dared to stand and feared to rise
Pushed himself into a cracked paradise,
Nowhere to run, took his 13th breath

Now kneeling in the wet sand,
Facing the soft, red sky he cried,
Without tears, swallowed the cold
Truth as his soul withered away.