Twisted Black

crack open this poem,
smash it to quivering bits,
burn its words,
drown its perfidious voice;

see how it cries,
while my dreamless eyes pray dry,
how its tongue contorts, bones
wrapped around its faceless head;

surrogate silence
twisted black
into soulful lies.


Quadrille: a 44 word poem
Linked to Dverse Poets (prompt word: Open)

36 thoughts on “Twisted Black

  1. Way back when i lost my
    soul.. there were those
    who said my words
    were eloquent
    and full
    of feelings..
    how opaque
    that window was
    into the eYes of soULs
    who could still see and
    feel the SpiRit in only
    empty sheLLs of
    words oF i..
    left of
    GRowN CoLd
    from dead sea
    Black Hole Soul..
    sure.. a logical memory
    of vehicles and vessels
    that housed the essence
    of my humanity and.. lesSon
    for the rest of my eternity now..
    Essence is what counts over Form..:)


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