Live a poetic existence. Take responsibility for the air you breathe and never forget that the highest appreciation is not to just utter words, but to live them compassionately.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

The Peril of Virtue

Hope is the one
Who fools us all.
The wake of an inferno;
it engulfs our trembling
lungs like a seething furnace
who burns its coal
in a fury of kindling.

It sprays fumes of purple haze
And spews a stream of flame
From a flamed vent
Far too heavy to conquer.
Cobalt ashes and a singing blaze
Silence the sound of reason,
Flogging our delirium.

A desolate sanctuary
For screeching lambs
Misguided into a wasted league,
Aloft the desperation of fate,
Are propelled into a wrath
Of void and spellbound red.

This fathomless beast becomes
our slumber and our exile.

No comments:

Post a Comment