Oblivion.

A Poem by Wraith.

The sickle beckons,
Earth and her pregnant womb
blossom ate the butterfly
Invidious and bitter and she drains herself to aid my existence
In the gentle birth, notion of euthanasia
Arouses my imminent quietus

A time must come to reclaim my matter,
draw back her hand of benign dirt
Black seeds she blows into the eternal webs
Network of light in a perpetual mist of nothingness

© 2015 Wraith.

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jacob erin-cilberto

"earth and her pregnant womb" love that line...

"what a piece of work is a man" (as Hamlet said)

"to a place once born no traveler returns" or something like that...

a very interesting introspection here.

Posted 10 Years Ago

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Added on July 2, 2015
Last Updated on July 2, 2015

Author

Wraith.

warwickshire, United Kingdom

About

“I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been.. more..