PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Shadows dance in the fires of Avalon

while the gypsies dance and sing their songs

stuck in a trance by the sway of their hips

trapped in the addiction that is her lips

The world held at the end of her finger tips



When your last god dies

will you let your ears, hear more lies

or will you be able to compromize

that heaven's holy ground

is the Devil's marry-go-round

in a carnival of sins

a dieing man grins



The water melts in this lucid dream

where nothing is ever what it seems

As life forms a perfect ring

A dieing man confessed

his desires made him obsessed

decaying against the wind

peeling back the rotting skin



A disease is spreading

Humanities not ready

an illness of stupidity

good thing theres a prescription availability

A drug for you and me

yet only a dieing man is free

Death will come so just let it be

A dead man will show you his secrets

just look past the surface

and you will see everyone has a purpose