Demetrius,
home of the genocide,
home of its children.
I walked a mile
of broken glass
with men in white trilbies
and 3 piece suits
of skin.
The sky was red
and the moon hid his face
among clouds of blood
and his own guilty tears.
Demetrius,
home of the genocide,
home of its children.
I walked a mile
of broken glass
with men in white trilbies
and 3 piece suits
of skin.
The sky was red
and the moon hid his face
among clouds of blood
and his own guilty tears.
Wow. these get better every time I come read. This one is fantastic in particular, from title to closing line. I love myth based poetry, tho.