“The Sizzling Sea” – A short poem of dark by Lewi Glenis Patience, still holding back. Yet, impulse swells within each nervous twitch. It marks the cake walkers with delusion, cursing them through the half skin. Never knowing of the emptiness they swallow. Forced to compete, filling vacant vanities. For the absence of sanctity they cry alone when naked, and it is not fear that marks them. I want not the gilded promise, for sake of stupor, or the empty stare of compromise. I see the night stalkers inside this molten stone of envy. Shielding themselves from it’s darkening crimson sky; full of ash. Screaming to be made sterile, while fire walking over the voices of many. It is, and has always been the single, solitary ice floe that soothes the thoughts, and carries the lonely out, down; into the melting sea of forgiveness... this vast eternity. The volcano now awakened. And from its origin, spews out; the seat of the soul. Once domiciled by the thieves of tolerance, the harvesters of lies. These fault lines of distrust, alive and aglow for the lack of passivity and childhood fancy. Run not into the fires that swell, for the ancient kiln absolves no one of their human sacrifice. Pink feet shall blister and blind the foreskin of firing brimstone. Scorched once again the sea lies dormant for the first–last time. First shocked awake, then kept alive to be haunted by the memory of the last mold. Accept no part in it, for the past mold has been hardened and shattered. Now, resting, a pool of glass covers them as smoldering bits of never-end are cast from the fires that swell, for the ancient kiln absolves no one of their childs sacrifice. Jump. © Lewi Glenis
Posted on: Thu, 08 Jan 2015 08:40:32 +0000
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