Friday, June 17, 2011

Seam

Dirges do not accompany these dead,

heads immersed in madness lay down the laws

- draws open wide their eyes and holds them apart,

depart not, drift not apart - where the wails have gone?

- Don black instead, indulge in sullen stares at the sky above.

Doves come by and grip the dead's floating tress,

bless-ed winged ones prefer to fly off decaying spawls,

caul shadows over October's shallow seam,

gleam like stars across a sky hooded in grey,

stay, stay - a few lingering clouds call by,

try, ignore and fly back over the white lane,

lanes with no trails to guide,

glide in silence over these lands too painful to rest,

rest not, lest the thread come apart.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

I don't think I get what this means.
But it has a musical quality, and I enjoyed your word choice. So maybe that doesn't matter so much.

Sheilagh Lee said...

I'm not sure who the dead are but this touched me deeply.

Vivekanand M said...

@beespoetry

The meaning is there. Not hidden but not very vague either :)

Vivekanand M said...

@Fear Not

Thank you. It was written when my mind was almost overwhelmed by the grimness caused by an unraveling set in motion by own, well to put it bluntly, stupidity.

Anonymous said...

I'm wondering why you bolded 'prefer'; is it to help flow, or just to make a statement? Either way, I enjoyed it :)

Pat-Mather Brown Gordon-ceton said...

fun word play.

truly enjoyed it.

Maxwell Mead Williams Robinson Barry said...

creative.

Ann LeFlore said...

this is a little hard to figure out who the dead are but in the end it is actually very touching
http://gatelesspassage.com/2011/10/18/mirror-of-truth/

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