Like the vampire,
I turn away from the the cross--
a revelation of all those wasted moments
romancing pleasures of the flesh,
feasting on intoxicated back alley vermin,
crimson-lipped prostitutes, still
preaching of powers
that tear the seas, tame lions,
fill the empty glass, the plate of crumbs.
Redemption--a cruel tease,
not for my kind,
I lurked too deep into the shadows,
shook the hand of too many midnight dwellers.
My eternity--closed in. Coffined.
With the light of my own pale skin
betraying me. Burning
too bright for sleep.
4 comments:
Still can't generate anything new, so this is another old one I'm revisiting with minor line break and stanza revisions.
i love this.
simple as that.
Okay, did I see this before? It seemed familiar. It's awesome the way you weave the ideas of casual sinner and unholy abomination so seamlessly. The title is quite brilliant as well.
Yessir. It's fairly old. In fact, I think it was the last poem I wrote for my project in '08. Yep. I read it at my defense. You may remember it from then, Chris.
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