Frozen organs. Firey waters.
It all happened so suddenly;
Oh, a fever coiling a tree, bearing no
fruit
Flowers withering, crumbling to dust
beneath the poor earthly heart
Without roots to speak,
shadows dance in rings
A deer picks up on the erosion
this fever brings
Far in the deep,
Slow growth,
Spheres cling to the skin, wielding
blood of thousands on curled leaves,
confetti teasing tears restricted
Ripped from the ground,
the air becomes the plain of Death —
tearing apart the forest's breath
Once a kindred spirit of the sun and
rain;
a home for many lost,
alone or in pain
With branches of hands perspiring,
sinking below the call of the night,
forgetting the smell of May skies,
remembering the taste of arid snakes
beyond a hundred cries
Oh, a feverish wind nips at the tree as
the rest are left unmarred; harsh
silence prowls — a beast marked
frozen still
Crashing abrasions on cliffsides,
an inferno building weeps above the
wandering tide,
lingering and watching with anxious
eyes
Oh, the kiss of a single dandelion
burn,
touching nearby.
— The Fever
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YOU ARE READING
the words I kept
Poetry"𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼, 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓲𝓼𝓱..." These are the feelings I carried with me, thoughts I held back, scars I hid, and all the words I kept; my friend and my foe. A C H I E V E M E N T S : » 𝑾𝒂𝒔...
