Poetry Forum
For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!
10/19/2016 11:04:45 AM
Terry Robinson Posts: 49
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Broken lungs sit idly by as the air no longer
drives through me on turbine wings.
And eyes rust over corneal layers
festering with swollen contempt
and grey-veined snarls.
Fallen muscle across macerated
fleshy mouth masks lost words
that become endangered species.
Whilst blood congeals within
this scorched corpus and pupils
become the blackend vessels
to my frozen soul.
The Sun stops its arc across the sky.
The sickle of the moon settles
upon my skin, cuts its way to my heart
and stops.
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