Monday, 27 February 2012

mark the stars

in our times of fury,
we roll in our wretched despair.
our skin drenched in the hate,
as it drips from our swollen bodies 
over wounds laid bare.
we shout and we scream.
our anger scratches against the sky,
our words hiss as they mark the stars
and as we claw and rip and tear everything apart,
in the darkness we then cry.
we cry for what is broken,
in shaking fear that it cannot be fixed.
in the glowing ambers of our storm
we hunger for what now is missed.

1 comment:

Party Poison said...

I am absolutely horrible at poetry, but I really, really liked this. I am able to relate to it on so many levels.

Is there any way I can steal this from you? You have just inspired me to re-do an entire post I was thinking about doing.