Open Poetry #23 |
As the Sun Sets |
Masked Intruder
Moderator
Senior Member
since 1999-05-23
Posts 1231Near golden sunsets |
Listen to the symphonic chirp of an autumn’s cricket cleanly dying away in rattail ribbons muffled by morning’s slow animosity. Breathe the early darkness as the chill draws you aside, settles in your mind. Create a new world in fewer days and more nights, slipping new aromas into the flower garden and pain into His soul. The quandary came and went with a new line and reincarnated into something much heavier. Be the apprentice and answer the demands of the Master, thick with delitescent urgency and ambiguous etymons. Turn His petitions from sand to boulders, bear the weight on your back, on your soul. As the Son peaks into His hottest hour, feel the unbearable, unquenching, undeniably tormentuous fear that the Son will set before you shade your eyes. Ignore that small thought slowly seeping from behind your cerebral eye, telling you that the Four Horsemen, indeed, will ride again, and concentrate on the glowing redness of the Son as your dying soul sets behind the horizon. (reworked) |
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© Copyright 2002 Philip Zemler - All Rights Reserved | |||
Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
As the Sun or Son sets? Intense imagery here. I enjoyed the mind twisting thoughts, the idea of the Sun or the SON setting before you are ready. |
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