Blooms
And of the vines that encompass that tower,
each soak in black blood as they bloom by the sun.
In a coat of crude fluid, they blister and flower,
an aged, dusty corset of crimson red thread.
Buds will greet all, spreading petal eyes,
spitting low mists all to the sprawl.
Yet the blooms have no hopes of such things.
Yet the blooms have no thoughts of such things.
Yet the blooms must oblige to such things.
One can spread his lips and taste such things.
The End
RATE THIS CHAPTER!
Please login to rate this chapter!
RATINGS BREAKDOWN
9 COMMENTS ABOUT THIS POEM Feed
Author guidance for This poem
A series of abstract poems I'll be writing. They will gradually build a fantasy world.Prologue: Abstract(The first poem.)
Epilogue: Windmill Dancer, Aside Lucifer's Clock
All other poems are the story as described by the protagonist. Regardless, read it in order of chapters. This is how I intended it.
Any building or structure noted in the story can be considered a character of some kind.
POEM TAGS
THE GOODS
You're currently reading a chapter in the poem
Abstract.. This chapter
was posted on Mar 27, 2011 by
Flynn.
This is a solo poem.
© 2011. All rights reserved.
This poem is filed under:
Abstract, Lyric, Simple Rhyme
POST A COMMENT
Wanna say something? Make yourself heard!
We reserve the right to delete spam, flames, or other nasty stuff.