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Obscurity
by Quinlan L GibsonThe path is worn, littered with the torn dress;
Hollow emotion, drowned in the ocean.
Immorality is claiming me, shaming, staining
Apathy wrung from soft tissue black and blue
seeping through bruises on compost flesh
enmesh in sweat; devour this hunger for touch.
Malignant lechery eclipses the light
and all cast in goodness, succumbs to night.
04/22/2009 Posted on 04/22/2009
Copyright © 2025 Quinlan L Gibson
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 04/22/09 at 10:27 PM The path may be worn, but you definitely seem capable to getting some fresh material out of it. I love that opening line, by the way. |
| Posted by Sandy M. Humphrey on 04/23/09 at 02:19 AM There is nothing obscure about the words you weave together, the intensity of the lines. smh |
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