Monday 10 November 2008

Leech

I could drink from your soul
And still be thirsty.
I wish to feed to my fill,
From every fluid ounce
Of your being.
And long to thrive, on your ashes,
Dipped in the melt of the mighty bones
Smothered with earthen dust,
And still wet,
From the night rains.

In the lustful desire for the perilous,
I aim at revival.
In the sweet pleasure of revenge
I regain faith. In the dearth of senility
I heckle, endlessly.

And amidst the derisive snigger
I forget to notice,
The leech is at his job-
And amidst all mirth
I bleed,
Profuse.

9 comments:

  1. WOW!
    Painless...but fatal..
    wonderful selection of images..
    liked it..
    mip

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  2. MIP, thanks so much!!! juz surprised me wi diz quick comment!! whoa! thank you :) glad to c u here, after a while (am cribbin...lolz!!) :D

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  3. Woah! flavour of the season? Artfully and eerily crafted! As always, I just love your ease with fluid expression!!!

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  4. Thank YOU!! :)yea mema, the seasonz dark i gather...heehee!! nyw, hope the clouds clear off soon!! :) thanks so much!!

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  5. as deep as a leech's blood sucking bite...good work

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  6. Fluent, flowing and equally intelligent. Sometimes your dark expressions become repeatative, I regret.

    Ity

    ReplyDelete

Hollers!!

 

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