National Poetry Month
By Shinken del Fénix
I wander through this world of whirling wind
A world where greed is the resounding din
I am a man of myth; no one hears
My story for they’re deaf and full of fear
Amor, it is a lonely way I walk
Where the stars sing songs and shadows stalk
The light as an assassin does its prey
They say I should pray but to whom do they
Pray? Are their gods not the idols of T.V.
That let you see how blind a man can be?
See how they run from their mortality!
Yet they all die inside like time rotting
They have gaping-grave wounds that aren’t clotting
They with dead eyes face the sky unseeing
Six feet below the undertow, sinking
Drinking the absinthe of oblivion
I’m alive amongst these dead millions
Discover more from Shinken del Fénix.
Check out your fellow readers’ previous entries.
Calling all poets! We’ll be posting your poetry throughout the entire month. Send us your best poem, from now until April 27th.