He Met Three Times An Apocalypse, and then Wept.
the first apocalypse might have
destroyed the stars, but instead
filled his vision of innocence
with dread, where time was
naked, wearing only its increments,
and thousands of tomorrows went on.
the second apocalypse had few
words and now a song,
taking away the wholeness,
and calling minuscule heartbeats
the soul. the potential remaining
might have killed, might have loved-
but the third apocalypse was different,
unkind, and swiftly destroyed his freedom
by cancelling two revelations' joy. and
loose now, reassembly crept with footsteps
inching to inflict upon him
a fate lacking death.
He met three times an apocalypse,
and then wept.
destroyed the stars, but instead
filled his vision of innocence
with dread, where time was
naked, wearing only its increments,
and thousands of tomorrows went on.
the second apocalypse had few
words and now a song,
taking away the wholeness,
and calling minuscule heartbeats
the soul. the potential remaining
might have killed, might have loved-
but the third apocalypse was different,
unkind, and swiftly destroyed his freedom
by cancelling two revelations' joy. and
loose now, reassembly crept with footsteps
inching to inflict upon him
a fate lacking death.
He met three times an apocalypse,
and then wept.
posted by anonymityrules at 8:09 PM
3 Comments:
...i dont understand why this is even in poetic form.
no sound devices, no form devices...there's free verse, and then there's free verse.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
sorry, delete previous statement. there are definitely form devices. and im practicing narrative poetry.
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