[poem] 朔ノ策は紅く咲く
Don't really know why or how come I wrote it, but the fact that it is going to be newmoon very soon, adding to that already today for some reason I haven't been feeling mentally too well ever since I got up... and then realized it's New Moon time [hurray =_=] somehow made me write a poem that seems a bit like right out of a nightmare... spinning around and around. Saku no saku ha akaku saku? Yes. Loony.
朔ノ策は紅く咲く 「Saku」
The vanishing Moon reveals your face
Blood-stained, torn off skin, a scream
I'm walking on, trying to steady my pace
but the Red light makes the hurdles teem
I don't know where I'm walking to
nor who I am, the only thing I know
becomes a Red spot that looks like you,
and keeps leaking foulness onto fresh snow.
And whatever it is at my heart that I clutch
with sweaty hands that drip a-plooch a-plich
I know that about it I care so very much
Turning around in my head, run, stagger, stitch.
Laying down and looking up at Moon
I wonder what is still moving in my grip
And why from all the pain I just don't swoon
When it's Heart that lies there, stab-bed, drip.
I blink and shudder and raise my hands
Your face so accusing down me stares
My gaze dropping, my head it bends
Something dark and wet so warm it flares.
A beating something under my finger
A feral scream, not from my throat, I'm sure
ripping the silence, a hoodoo bringer,
and pins me further down into the floor.
An uneven round object, warm like blood,
spitting into my face like a brazen brat
And I wonder why what comes down like a flood
Tastes so much like you when you bite and fret.
Poem archive
朔ノ策は紅く咲く 「Saku」
The vanishing Moon reveals your face
Blood-stained, torn off skin, a scream
I'm walking on, trying to steady my pace
but the Red light makes the hurdles teem
I don't know where I'm walking to
nor who I am, the only thing I know
becomes a Red spot that looks like you,
and keeps leaking foulness onto fresh snow.
And whatever it is at my heart that I clutch
with sweaty hands that drip a-plooch a-plich
I know that about it I care so very much
Turning around in my head, run, stagger, stitch.
Laying down and looking up at Moon
I wonder what is still moving in my grip
And why from all the pain I just don't swoon
When it's Heart that lies there, stab-bed, drip.
I blink and shudder and raise my hands
Your face so accusing down me stares
My gaze dropping, my head it bends
Something dark and wet so warm it flares.
A beating something under my finger
A feral scream, not from my throat, I'm sure
ripping the silence, a hoodoo bringer,
and pins me further down into the floor.
An uneven round object, warm like blood,
spitting into my face like a brazen brat
And I wonder why what comes down like a flood
Tastes so much like you when you bite and fret.
Poem archive