crimson

blake's sick rose
in its crimson bed
curled round the word
still awake to crimisin
when wars were born of roses
when tattered banners wilted
a greay wreath
cast up on grey rock
ash to touch


fallen from cremesin
long gone, when in spain
petals still furled
in the coiled black curls
of a child on a floundering ship
eyes on the stormy sea


a rose amid the waves
tossed amid
dark blue
devouring waters
drifted to shore
at kurmuzi


where the core, nothing more
sank in the sand
to krmi: worm


07/06

11/07

tasnimx@hotmail.com