The Killing Fields
Fields of innocence
Years to mature
Treated yours,mine.
Yet,
Yours killed mine.
Aged with perception,
incurable prescription,
unknown assumption
Death,
only a function.
Mine- eyes closed.
Yours- opened,
Stared at mine.
No!
It can't be.
I lost 2,
first.
Then 3.
Was it all, meant to be?
Fields of innocence,
no more is.
Tombstones,
Roses,
Corpses.
Return me my morning kiss,
Kiss me on thy lips.
Sweet wine no more,
You.
I must leave.
'Done because we are too menny.'
written after reading jude the obscure on a quiet thursday night.
The actual title was Killing The Fields. but i changed it.
posted by gary @ 8:44 PM
<< Home