Fallen leaves and broken bones sound the same
Underneath steps of stone
Golden irises and pupils of molasses haunt my hooded lids
The wind sings notes of ghostlike melodies; possessing my ringing ears
Past lives fall gently to the ground like leaves
The blood of the lost bringing colors to piles of ash
Death calls the cold wet earth home; crunching underneath our feet
The dead have come back to us in the bloody shades of autumn
I don't know what to think of the little lines of insanity coming from my head...
I run a magazine called Surreal Grotesque, www.surrealgrotesque.com, we run horror fiction, dark poetry and art if you are interested. All work would remain your property, I would just feature it and link to your deviantart account. Let me know. SurrealGrotesque77@hotmail.com I also have a group here on deviantart: [link]
The title quickly arose my curiosity of this piece, and it was only heightened after reading it. In other words, I love this poem!