16 May 2012

King Of Locusts

The king of the locusts
Laid waste my dreams
They lay torn and tattered
On dark and barren ground
Their tedious forms
Bled into the gutter
Washed away by tears
A time to gather stones
An eternity of frozen space
The cat's cradle broke
The hollow moon shone
Dark cenotaphs loomed
The lightning stuck one
Too early to see
There was no place
For a silent whore
To sing for his supper
Or starve for love

1 comment:

  1. My new favorite! I love it when a piece of hard literature leaves me dazed and in utter fascination.