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by Cecil Vernon Crumrine, Jr.

He felt waves of color
wash from his heart-
crimson flowers wilted;
leaving behind nothing
but bleached shadows... 

like a scythe the half moon 
sliced across the evening sky 
tattering the swarthy fabric
into whip-like ribbons
that ravaged the night...

this, then, is how time dies-
numbed from exposure 
to a sullen murky mist 
that slowly eats away at life 
like acid devours pages in a book...

but, then, what proof is there
that life was ever lived-
for though his tongue tasted
the wine, it dissolved into
scarcely a bitter memory...

and like a candle without flame,
a bird stripped of song,
a woman robbed of her radiance-
he became but sheer existence 
unseen; unheard; unloved.

Poem ID: 7457   Poem Posted: 9/5/1998
Viewed: 17004  Voted On: 322  E-mailed: 28  Commented On: 2
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Rose and Rhyme Sweets Message in a Bottle Flowers

Copyright , 1998, Cecil Vernon Crumrine, Jr.  all rights reserved by the author.
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