Dead men dance
Dead men dance before me,
Digging earth for my grave.
Dancing to tunes forbidden,
Dancing to my pains.
They turn to dust when I touch them.
The very air chokes with their remains.
Thin smoke fills my lungs and kills me;
The process slow and asphyxiating.
Faces fill my sight and blinds me:
Faces full of joy, sorrow, pleasure and pain.
Fulminating cups of emotions
Flow into my being to jeapordize my existence.
Dead men dance before me.
Dancing to my remaining days.
-B.W
I have no idea why I wrote this poem. Maybe I'm going mad. Who would know? Who would care? Nevertheless, it is words in motion, open to interpretation. Perhaps I shall return someday to rediscover it's perplexities; or criticise it's random creativity. Who would know?
posted by -b.l.u.e.w.i.n.g- at
11:16 PM
1 Comments:
2nd Corinthians 4:18. live life simple bro. the more we question, the more we doubt. our ways never surpass God's. even His foolishness is higher than our wisdom.
don't be subjected to doubt. or what you understand but misunderstood.
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