Pleasure in Sorrow
The discordant sighs
Of a looming crowd
Gird the cacophony
Of a soul's drumming tears
They smell of salt
And taste of soap
The sting parching the heart;
The flavor scolding the tongue
Like insects
They continue to surround
The poor soul
Suppressed in his woe
Won't they help;
Subdue his rain?
No.
They watch with a buzzard's thousand eyes
Like a plague they feed,
Drinking the tears
To feel the burn,
Reveled they're not their own
By: Renada Styles
Thanks for linking up this weekend. We hope you can come back for the weekday challenge too. Remember to check out our Facebook and Twitter pages for news on what's happening on the site.
ReplyDelete