Sweet Underground

My fingers start to rot.

Decay as decoy

The blood of loss.

 

Seeing things I never could see,

Believing in the darkness

Surrounding me,

Spoiling memories,

Setting liberties.

 

Feeling the emotional flash-back,

Move under the dispatched track.

Where have the roots gone?

I miss the silence of the earth,

No cry beyond.

 

My good foundation,

Temporary cement,

A base of creation,

Sweet underground environment.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s