Rest Thy Weary

Eyelashes float to rest upon cheeks like black butterflies on nectar

The nectar that drips downwards is clear rather than gold

Salty rather than sweet

The storm squeezes the cage where dreams lay

Like red paste on pavement

The sighs don't come like songs

Rather, as the screaming of a saw

Until the heart aches and pinches

Until the claws wish to tear out the drowsy pain

Metamorphosis to numbness and cold

In which the skin aches for heat

In which the soul longs for sleep

Metabolic rest

Followed

By a 

Timely 

Silken

Death

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

Rather Poelike, this one. Great use of imagery.

[wolfie]

Thank you so much! I am glad you liked it.