Deadly Sin #1
Lust: To be enamoured with rust.
The way that the seasons stand
Upon the shoulders of those
That came before.
In the end always toppling into winter,
As anything found in death
Must to death return.
Vagabond Prophet
Original Poetry about anything and everything.
Deadly Sin #1
Lust: To be enamoured with rust.
The way that the seasons stand
Upon the shoulders of those
That came before.
In the end always toppling into winter,
As anything found in death
Must to death return.
Vagabond Prophet
Such a passionate love
As to spill past covers front and back
And into my veins.
So if I must bleed I bleed for love
Your sacrifice surging forth
From my languid vessels
And into plain sight.
Where devils and angels
Fly unseen by those of us with skin.
Vagabond Prophet
Rain that holds out
Just long enough
For a brief stroll through it,
Dazzled by its freshness.
Rain makes everything
More itself,
Soil turns deeper brown
Trees turn vibrant green
And I turn 71% water.
Vagabond Prophet
Grant me reprieve
From this man I’ve achieved.
With efforts undone
By your deeds that have won
Me over to you.
You’ve won me over to you
And you’re winning me still.
Driving the nail through the board
To bridge the gap, build a fjord
Marrying you and me
Against calamity.
Rings around fingers
Fingers intertwined
Spun round a heart
Loving you you will find.
Vagabond Prophet
Thanks @josy57 for the prompt “driving the nail.”
To be this exhausted
With crows feet and bags under eyes,
Is to have miners on my face
Digging for gold but
Finding nothing of value.
Only an ever deepening
Trench upon my brow.
Vagabond Prophet
Though your words are lovely
Your voice is more so,
Written on the air
With most elegant of quills.
Close your eyes and count to three
Feel these words float down to thee
Breath in deep until it wounds,
Air so frigid as to stab.
Keep your eyes shut
You’ll feel the air but
It won’t be your friend
You’ll have to defend.
The frost it will bite
Regardless of might
Once your sweat reverses
Keeping all bad things inside.
Like your hot breath
Before a cold death
Forming clouds to swirl
Into the sky dancing.
You’ll smell it on the wind
A promise of every sapling skinned
The scent unmistakable
Of impending frozen descent.
Shavings of ice
Malformed but still nice
Descending so slowly
As though afraid to land.
Look across the land
To frozen and frictionless sand
See the horizon bleed into sky
And be unable to find the seam.
Know the boundaries of yourself
Stacked upon a shelf
Separated so obviously,
Body so warm next to world so cold.
Observe homes in hibernation
And others in annihilation
When for so long so much is dead
Find the strong few, who stubbornly live on.
Close your eyes once more
And hear a global snore
Feel branches getting thick
Beneath blankets that only chill.
Now open and be entertained
See the shaking clouds dust ordained
To smite for a time unchallenged
And just see if you can hold back a smile.
Now if you can’t restrain
It’s okay don’t refrain
Just know your lips may split
Bringing a solitary drop of colour
To a painting of purest white.
– Vagabond Prophet
@mildreflections I hope this is a satisfactory mind picture of what winter is here.
Why do I find spring only half
As inspiring as winter?
Perhaps because the earth
Is hard at work doing
What I so earnestly implored
It to do in dead of December.
Vagabond Prophet
I wake up late and full of worry
When you find me,
You’re both judge and jury
I’m stressing unnecessary.
You sentence me to relinquish
Things that I can’t handle
For I’m nearly crushed
Even by the things I can.
Vagabond Prophet