PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Nude and falling, you keep calling with words that conflict with my brain. I'm walking solo seeking something But I seem to have lost my way. Drinking sherry through a straw which opens into the bottled layers of defeat and flowers mould into the groove of electric eels charging their batteries in the collections of undertakers gathering bodies for their trade and I walk into the danger knowing full well that I cannot be saved so I drink away the horror of the sorrow that permeates the grave while I ponder on the true words yapping crazily within the mindless driving cars of streets so silent I can hear the whispers of the dead Plus I think that I have lost my mind and now I look into the shallow ground for the perfection of the soul You scream at me but that's o.k. for I know that the words you supply are empty dribbles of ever-charging books We read ourselves into slumber then we remember that we died a long time ago.