Just a memory.


Healing Hands

Healing Hands

Blue skies
reflect the healing hands staring.
Moist eyes
glassy from all the falling.
Bruised and stained.
Looking lost
for the ghost has fled the body.
Hands cuffed,
Kneeling for the end of pain.
Blood seeping from the endless pores
now drained.
Little rivers of crimson
pretty wax flows hotly.
Broken mind healing
the unhealthy soul.
Confused by the reality of everything
standing alone.
Growing with time
and tempered by the fractured bone.
Reasons have clear questions
and they know not.
Weeping eyes tormented
as the rotted hand infects.
Sick and hot.
Looking dead
for rigor mortis has set in.
Hands crushed by the weight of a burden
forgotten.
Only reminders
of a body which once thrived.
Giant tears stain the grave
of one not so nice.
Visions of a mind healed
odds beaten
I live.






by allmax





Poetry by Allmax
Read 655 times
Written on 2005-12-11 at 20:10

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