PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

A speeding calypso of pinning panic,

Stone-skinned armour is reduced to dust.

The ringing alarm is your voice guiding my mind,

A passing watcher of dreams and the stars,

To see them we must set explosions across the sky,

With glimpses of perfection, seen only with the inner eye.

I cast my worries aside the bridge I was burning,

Only to be swept by the river, then gathered to rain.

I stand rooted, stunted, as each muscle is failing,

For what was once forgotten has quenched the victory flame.

I sat down by the bomb and waited,

But when the time came, nothing happened.