Thursday, 28 July 2011

The Brute's Visceral

Strangled songs,
muted gasps,
to tarry on... on and on.
Flows the river, motionless
a breath, an interlude
til his words resonate a roar
and shatters,
dead lips that echo
dead eyes that reflect..
shimmering beneath the surface.

Haunted, his labyrinth
of morbid cries and screams
crushed in his palm,
they disintegrate,
to tingling rhythmic shards.

Untouched, yet entwined
demonised from the inside
embellished, his earthly woes
stem from an arsenic womb

mercy sheathed an embryo
to shield the devil's child
a discourse, from an intercourse
outplayed her ringing sighs
she did leave a scar
in her son, cursed, demarcated
no rebuke spurned his need
to vengeance, evermore..

dancing to his call
still waters turn to unquiet
submerging lullabies
unsung through his strife

he surges over the undercurrent
wrath seeping through
borne, of powdered bone
strewn over the purview.

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