Something a little dark, loosely based on the form 'Interlocking Rubaiyat'. -17th November 2012.

Passing stranger.

The passing stranger plays host with his hands,
Blood overshadowing his feet where he stands.
The failing flight of his words start to find me,
but his striving chest can no longer expand.

The passing stranger starts falling to his knees,
Whisper of concluding breath; a final plea.
I try hard to find what could be to blame,
but this darkness holds no faces that I can see.

The passing stranger upon deaths flame,
His pitched eyes wanting angels, but none came.
I find strength from within my curious soul -
As his body lies forever still, I ask him his name.

Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 470 times
Written on 2012-11-17 at 20:29

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So well written, I enjoyed both the form and the subject, (shivers~~~)

Ferenc Inigo Beck
Chilling impercations!
I loved it