Tonight is not the night for martyrs
muffling her cries with television verbiage
I purse my lips to not whisper the prayer
yet it seeps from my forehead unto the world
If God may notice my clause amongsts pains
I know I will survive the night
preventing all that is real from caressing my mood
I clench a fist holding in my sighs
pretending the truth escaped in its own contemptuos defeat
once i release all digits of my sanitiy my hand laid frailed
And once again with its own phalanges reality hits
I watch my soul lay across the floor and he whispers
Your smile, wit, and freedom are lapsing with the sadness
And if this sadness is what you consume
There is no more of you left
I glanced hesistantly at this sage and began to cry
only in moments of one moment to capture a still
one landscaped notion that hit me like wild winds
in time , in time but for now i purse my lips
I clenched my fist and reside in a frozen state
translating the words and images of reality into a dream
tonight is not the night for martyrs
a deep poetic voice, as Abhinav says...the style is visionary -look forward to more from you
hola you. I know you from somewhere, don't i? :). not the night for martyrs. Welcome to poetfreak. I'm a freak, are you a freak?
beautiful. stunning and fanfreakintastic ending. where did you come from? lol