maandag 23 november 2015

A macabre dance

Barbed wire and tangled words
are pinning down my reflections
between the dream and reality

they have edged the borders
in the black earth with the blunt end,
the spade has cut the worms in smithereens,

I see the pieces just like dementing fingers
crawling and groping around on an exploration
for the stableness of the abyss
along my rickety house of cards,

the blood from my opened veins
is shooting as a red flare through my pen,
slamming roses and thorns out of my head,

I still know the dawn behind the horizon,
shall I be able to see the sun rising
before I've bled to death?

© Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere

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