My hearts lie deep in shattered palms,
My elders crying out the Psalms,
Trying to show me the way
To the empty hell of endless stray.
Sunset comes inverted like
the artery's red lightning's strike,
soaking up the empty bliss,
and the princely love who comes with gifts-
The dark wood stake of lost sons,
not unwieldy like the Native's last run,
who shies away from light's embrace
and lives in the darkness unencumbered by waste-
As the moon makes its last jaunt,
and I cry out for my former haunt,
The fire licks my saddened skin
and I know what is found within...
a broken child's shattered palms
and the dying woman screaming Psalms
the flickered light bearing the way
my empty hell, the place to stay.
By the way, I wrote this poem. Tell me what you think of it. I don't often show my poetry to people I don't know.
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