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On Trail to the Trial MAG
The Earth has not stopped swinging;
when did it die?
Like a man hanged
orbits his rope,
we follow the sun.
Death waits distantly
carrion crows cry the end
dark’s car lights
chase down the world
to burn it.
A child crying out in pain
a race car speeding toward fame
a grown man blushing red in shame –
which is the world?
Cold gears released to grind slowly
their heated way to oblivion.
Combustion in a flash of white heat.
What matters when all ceases:
who’ll clear the debris, the pieces?
Vultures hover on the horizon
somnolent in their certainty
watching with cold and cruel eyes
as we prey scuttle fervently
to an unavoidable end.
A twisted, weighted, rigged game,
A rutted one-way dead-end lane,
A fogged, dirty, opaque pane –
Which is the world?
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This article has 41 comments.
I really enjoyed it.
Lovely poem darling =]
-Please check out the works that I have posted on here it would be highly appreciated and I think you would greatly enjoy them, Thankk youz-
XxThe Whole Time You Were Talking I Didnt Hear A Single Word You Said B/C Th3 Whole Time You Were Talking I Was Picturing You DeadXx
A child crying out in pain
a race car speeding toward fame
a grown man blushing red in shame –
which is the world?
that part really stuck out to me. what an awesome thought.
really good poem. keep it up
This poem has such a dark intriguing beauty to it.
Reminds me of my writing.
Check it out if you have the time.
Keep writing and I'll keep reading.
You're a gifted writer.
<3, Sam.
19 articles 6 photos 11 comments
Favorite Quote:
"And if we're lucky, we realize, in the face of everything, in the face of life, the true dream is being able <br /> to dream at all." -Grey's Anatomy