|
Shadowsong
by V. Blakethe shadows on my ceiling dance
dead and cold in dark romance
swaying slow like sinking boats,
making moves i've learned by rote
and though the casters hide between
all i know and all i've seen
i still have reason to believe
it's not my eyes that they deceive.
but deeper now into this sleep
the hollow shapes begin to creep,
until their waltz becomes a swing
to keep up with the songs they sing
and the beating of a drum
pumping blood to fingers numb
to the knives these shadows hone
when i think i am alone. 01/10/2010 Author's Note: Poemuary entry #10.
Posted on 01/11/2010
Copyright © 2024 V. Blake
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Steven Kenworthy on 01/11/10 at 04:58 AM i can't say for sure why, but the line about the casters is like...eating up my lungs. this is dead strong my friend. i should read more of your work...i know you're got skills. this is a fine example. |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 01/11/10 at 03:29 PM It's not about the eyes deceived we must worry, but about the heart and soul. For a heart deceived may cry forever but a soul may find the abyss and never climb out. Good write. |
| Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 01/11/10 at 07:33 PM Murcurially enticing. There's more going on in the shadows than anyone knows. Delighted. Thanks. |
|
