Posted by: Ron DuBour | April 3, 2019





A stage set under sunset in red;
A golden crown drowning in a sea of bloodshed;
Snake bites harvesting in pernicious grass;
Torrent of wasted hindsight comes wearing a cross;
The waves of hope hitting the rock bottom;
Where thorns are friends with leaves of autumn;
Bitter truth that is meant to sting;
& lies fly with communal wing;
Perennial darkness starts lurking the sky;
& protection is granted under canopy of lie;
The nebulous shadows, unshackled in the moonlight;
Swaying freely in the reminiscence of last night;

They saw me burn;
They saw me take all those wrong turns;
They saw me suffer, they saw me yearn;
Through my rise & through all my fall;
They did nothing but they saw it all;
Quite a show I put for Them;
& They enjoyed it with all Their phlegm;

Then moon eclipses after every night’s endeavor;
& shadows disappear assuming just another scarred cadaver;
Air then blows gently all over my scars;
To recuperate me under the light of stars;

A surreal distortion, something even more Kafkaesque;
They are hoping for a masterpiece even more grotesque;
Some will come to see my bleeding heart;
Some will come to see a different ending to the same start;
But these stars will keep shining just to see my art;

Fell from heavens, smashed on Earth;
Drowning under the heap of my own literary dearth;
Denied by the ashes for another rebirth;
‘My Original Sin & the Heavenly crater’;
The birth of my twilight theater.


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