White hot

by January 22, 2015 0 comments

The stars are white hot flames
lingering in the ebony sky

as I bleed my life away.
A man as mad as a shroud

of crows crosses my path,
mumbling jibberish to himself.

I turn away as the violet purple fog
hangs in the air like
a chandelier that needs dusting.

editors note:

Shrug off the shroud and break out your duster. – mh

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