"With such a short fuse, comes the greater amount of risks to muck up your life. Is there a way to get out of it, but still continue building up my social reputation?" -John Ashleigh - 25 October 2005
A prick of amber loves to clog my veins.
Spurting arteries trying to field out-of-bounds,
A fuse timed with a constant melody; bang.
Green, orange to red –
Clocking the key and raising the rush-hour
Inhaling resin of some links that...Reputation builds.
The odd-colour, fizzing at the
Dull, deep feelings; italic at its bravest.
Hibernated pupils sustained from all evidence
CCTV – an overdose of unreliable source.
Waiting until dusk do dawn,
Waiting until light does frail.
Feeble in the hands of a lord; inspiring to the prison
A room framing my name on the lock.
Peeling coats of likeliness, baring the inner-wall,
An open mouth that models each tooth.
Temples frustrate, pulsate, creating the connection,
A bridge to walk over troubled masses of mud.
A sip of blood can make an innocent hand un-clean.
Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 1040 times
Written on 2005-10-25 at 23:55
Tags Deep Dark Truth
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Cut short.
Porcupine-stabs a toxin that deprives a thought,A prick of amber loves to clog my veins.
Spurting arteries trying to field out-of-bounds,
A fuse timed with a constant melody; bang.
Green, orange to red –
Clocking the key and raising the rush-hour
Inhaling resin of some links that...Reputation builds.
The odd-colour, fizzing at the
Dull, deep feelings; italic at its bravest.
Hibernated pupils sustained from all evidence
CCTV – an overdose of unreliable source.
Waiting until dusk do dawn,
Waiting until light does frail.
Feeble in the hands of a lord; inspiring to the prison
A room framing my name on the lock.
Peeling coats of likeliness, baring the inner-wall,
An open mouth that models each tooth.
Temples frustrate, pulsate, creating the connection,
A bridge to walk over troubled masses of mud.
A sip of blood can make an innocent hand un-clean.
Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 1040 times
Written on 2005-10-25 at 23:55
Tags Deep Dark Truth
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
Zoya Zaidi |
|
|
Zoya Zaidi |
| Texts |
 by John Ashleigh Latest textsDylan.In between love. Transcend. Fingertips. To give the stars. My favoritesNightlightPhoenix Seulement One Week from Tomorrow. Betrayed |
Increase font
Decrease