Detone

Post Reply New Topic

Detone

No calm to the spirit of us,
The impoverished pith
Can no longer smile
Can no longer grive.
Dishonor to the origin.
We tread the ethers
Withdrawing from such life
As though defiled in blood,
We ought carefully, to be
These magnificent creatures,
Though only for awhile.
We nurture trees of our choice
In defiance of drought
Thus embedding, twisting
Declaring ourselves,
Our intent to grow ancient.
Atop scorched, fragmented land
Upheavals detone the skies
Massive and misunderstood
The outer forest is burning,
The inner finds itself blooming.

Last edited by abyssquick on 15 May 2011, 11:06 pm, edited 1 time in total.

like blood from bedrock.

Ha, I had to look up the possible meaning. "blood from stone"

I might post a poem once in awhile. I just don't know what the response will be. There are so many more poets than poetry readers it seems. I try to achieve the former. I'm definitely the latter already.