Creator's Wrath
Colors of no earthly hue
Mockeries of natural law
Blasphemy upon this wall.
The iris grows to take the light
And shrinks when darkness swallows
And where we drown it follows.
The scarecrow stalks the crows
When you leave he says goodnight
He'll make sure you sleep real right.
A dying star guards fading life
Jealously, as though they'll run
To where their sisters spun.
A world asphyxiated
Busy as ants, we hurry
Our vision goes blurry.
Matter from no earthly plane
Piping from unnatural source
You'll scream yourself hoarse.
Our squishy vessels hang
By a single, careless thread
It doesn't end when you're dead.
Maybe you've forgotten
What we came here for
And the wrath of the creators is carved upon this door.
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
Creator's Wrath, which
was posted on Mar 3, 2011 by
RachaelRunes.
This is a solo poem.
About this poem
"Inspired by a line from an otherwise unremembered dream: "And the wrath of the c..."
This poem is filed under:
Abstract, Imagery, Simple Rhyme
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