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A procession of candlelight, burning Revealing Images of classic architecture; The Eiffel Tower, The Arc de Triomph, and a cathedral in the Île de la Cité, Where she sat, head bowed, hands in...
Juliet wept, tears immaculate. And she wept such tears so desolate, That the tiny bottle I held so delicate, Supernova'd. I am emasculated, Devastated, By her love taken away, Sweet Romeo.
Young choir girl. Slender innocence. Falling lightly across. Her smooth chest. Angelical androgyny. Ageless and forever. A cold consecrated flame. Finding no reflection. Ascends the skies.
The bell rings and Anna sings; She sings of the life of clouds And the span of conception Distilled in the tears of God.
#augustwriteaday Finally up to date. In this theatre of stone angels With Peter, Paul and James I lay my sins before you, Reveal my selfish games.
Kneeling, keening softly, pleas In her own Gethsemane Tucked away, hardly seen In streets so tough and cold and mean, A little plot in St. Mary's lap.
Bent in kneel of silent prayer knuckle mould with crucifixion rosary's rhythm repeats foursquare In reflected genuflection.
When the end is getting closer and the earth will meet the sky. Now you repent because you realise that you're about to die. When cracks start to appear in the ground and it crumbles away.
Perched upon my ticking clock A sentry to my rest Little cherub hewn from lime block Guarded by the best.
The man himself sat up slightly straighter as I approached him, smiling dryly with a set of full gleaming white teeth.