miercuri, 17 noiembrie 2010

One morning...

One morning she woke up
And her sheets were making the outmost disturbing noise-
Her eyes became round mirrors for the precious sun,
Reflecting her feelings,a far cry from poise.

With  a swing of her right arm she tossed away
The satin shroud of her sleep,
To gaze upon an image
Only the Gods would have once seen:

Her stomach bleeding, not the reddish liquid,
But a sea of butterflies,
Crimson,black and white,
A scene so disturbing it made her
Wet those hazel eyes.

As light as summer thoughts,
As sweet as wine from the bottle,
The army  grew stronger and taller,
A soldier made up from a camp
Of a million.

Like a stone of flesh she stood in shock,
Hands protecting her open womb
With sparkling larve dreaming along the tune
Of sparrows quarreling at the window:
Poor mother,poor children...

Love is a lie,love is a plague,love is a disease
With a twist.
You become the prisoner in a crazy world.
There's no looking back.No return.

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