Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site


Poetry By: rofltaco

Poetry and stuff

Submitted:Jun 18, 2013    Reads: 4    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

A bloom of pestilence and human filth

Traces roots to footholds in the depths of our minds

A sinner or a saint, with how his story's told,

Clutches shadows we refuse to behold


Nails caked, color defiled with years of sweat

Spent locked, steeped in this pit, our fledgling nest

Shallow walls, the bounds of the feeble infinite

Mind weary from the complexity of what little we accept

From Axiom, that imposing visitor


And as he opens the door, our maiden voyage to the world

From the glow, we know we'll hide or run.


We'll raise up our hands to block out the sun.


| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list


About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.