by DevonCrowKingwoonsocket, Rhode Island, USA
Jul 2015 303 Views 0 comments
Thirst
Remember the burning;
The golden sun
Insects that hunger
For the flesh of the young.
Wandering wastelands.
Seeking the wet.
Hiding in shadows
With vultures as pets.
Shimmering visions
Call to your soul.
Stumbling blindly
Into a hole.
Scorpions sleep
In your boots by the door.
The thirst in your brain.
It ignites with a roar.
Crackling tinder;
It starts with your toes.
Nothing but ashes.
Your final death throes.
The golden sun
Insects that hunger
For the flesh of the young.
Wandering wastelands.
Seeking the wet.
Hiding in shadows
With vultures as pets.
Shimmering visions
Call to your soul.
Stumbling blindly
Into a hole.
Scorpions sleep
In your boots by the door.
The thirst in your brain.
It ignites with a roar.
Crackling tinder;
It starts with your toes.
Nothing but ashes.
Your final death throes.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2015
About this poem:
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