Days: A Poetry Novel

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 7 (v.1)

Submitted: March 19, 2013

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Submitted: March 19, 2013



Part Seven



Day 61

Our swords clattered to the ground

The battle was won

We had surrendered

At the price of dignity

At the profit of life


Day 62

The stain never did come out

I sat in my chair


And thinking

As the liquid dripped to the floor

The stain never did come out

Neither did the blood


Day 63

We rose

And so did they

On the dark desert horizon

Shadows cast on sandy dunes

Lights cast on ancient runes


Day 64

Rule number 1

Never close your eyes


Day 65

We watched the horizon as we walked

Us; a row of five

Six of us remained

She was so cold in my arms; could I not falter in my steps?

One by one

Through the gates

The emaciated metal gates

My legs give out and the pebbles shred my skin

The blood; it runs down my legs

But I remain numb

She’s so cold

So heavy

And her eyes

They’re shut

And I can’t think

And it’s all so loud!

My skull hits the ground with a dull cracking sound

They’re all silent

They walked into the horizon

Them; a row of four

Six of us remained

We are so cold in their arms; could they not falter in their steps?

One by one

Through the gates

The emancipated metal gates

My mind gives out; my eyelids close

It isn't very loud anymore


Day 66

The light behind me eyes

Slowly fading

Slowly raining

Slowly failing


Day 67

Violent words

 With violent synonyms

Violent thoughts

With violent repercussions

And one yes.


Day 68




A little bit extra



We ain’t on the B team.


Day 69

A sweet serenade

A lullaby

If only for the night

A light

Not mine

For awhile it seems

A small flickering flame

Bright enough


Day 70

Just a hired sword

Another face

Some sweet decadent lace


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