Replying to a comment on:

requiem for the dead generation (Other) by Prince of Void

Empty closets, bare rooms, Lonely corridors in the desolate buildings Deserted streets thorough wild flowers and weeds Faceless kids are performing that even the dead can dance in the bomb sites Nuclear Explosion decorated this ceremony of death And mushroom clouds lighted up in the sullen sky Already dead on the crown of the lost The requiem was composed by inaudible yells The yells of the dead generation, left out in hell Shadows of past leant against blank walls Nobody can see behind walls Suicidal sound echoes hauntingly over the ghost town And Dying sun dropped in the bleak vision of this regime Dead fetuses of dead generation are watching at the world the world Abandoned them inside the funereal wasteland

Dovina 1-May-07/4:03 PM
I don't know if "you" means me or your pain; it's a bit ambiguous. And a lot of folks would say both meanings are the same. Anyway, I, too, have already lived and died, and might as well lie down in that open grave. It's an optimistic position where nothing matters very much and all pleasures are possible. Tomorrow, I'll begin that cross-country bicycle trip I've been harping about. Like a homeless person sitting on the street with goals in her eyes, but no plans.




Track and Plan your submissions ; Read some Comics ; Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2024 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001