PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

As temple night lies down,

Resting feet touch the ground,

My eyes a cannibal light,

Torch the darkness in sight,



Are we the reason it’s so quite?

A puff a puff in purple night,

To sing along to whispers,

Vanishing into vapors,



And no this cannot be real,

Head alone, lips are sealed,

Kneel before a tempest come,

To do unjust forever done,



Look around this fetid swamp,

Tramp and boot and fly a stomp,

So damp, this besoughted light,

Old man now out of sight,



“It’s over here!”

Tunneled cry from the clear,

Moist eyes and dry mouths,

Nothing seen in rusty sounds,



“Ground this yearling down to dust!”

Gray whiskers insists a must,

And shivered thru a crowd of ghosts,

“A most ungracious, raucous host!”,



A line will form from Mother Nature,

To this imperious gray whiskers,

Taken the silent fawn,

Glowing crisp and went to dawn.