servile

Posted by Robert Anderson On Monday, October 3, 2011 0 comments

baiting my confessions,
the crossbones she hypnotically bares
chain me soundly by my heart
then lead me to a place i only thought
i truly knew

i trickle love
for the last thing she's ever whispered
to my death-knelt nobility

the utterance of that despair,
mirrored from her fragility,
assailed its taste from those muted silver skies

and the barren lands we wander
bewail debris
until at last i fall; crawling to death once more
before the night engulfs the earth

she inspires me to rise...
yes, to rise once again and follow her stricken soul
to wherever she may go

Posted by Robert Anderson at Monday, October 03, 2011
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