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173
• (edited )
Nightlight

Eternal and sure doth the sun not rise,

blessed the week's sacrament, seven times?

Doth it not excel and decline, traveler of the noon,

spite the warning of the road, the fog and gloom?

The strength of the Son like a star 'neath the gray,

beheld not in my eye, but a deeper way.

Shining stone of my creed, guide our feet in the dark,

go forth at night we brave ones to make a spark.

Eternal and sure doth the sun not rise, blessed the week's sacrament, seven times? Doth it not excel and decline, traveler of the noon, spite the warning of the road, the fog and gloom? The strength of the Son like a star 'neath the gray, beheld not in my eye, but a deeper way. Shining stone of my creed, guide our feet in the dark, go forth at night we brave ones to make a spark.

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[–] • 0 pt

One,

And Two,

And fucking Three and Four,

This week's chores,

Keep knocking on my doors,

Five...

Five...

What the fuck did I forget?

I think I got it!

Six

Six

What a fucking itch,

And Seven,

Seven,

The end of the week,

I fucking forgot to buy a Christmas gift,

To the sister with whom I do not speak

[–] • 1 pt

That was quick.

That ending though. Was that intentional or were you just riffing? Because there is like an upbeat humor through the whole thing, and it just drops you in that last line.

[–] • 0 pt

Do you also get gay with the poetry?

[–] • 0 pt

If that means writing gay poetry, then no.

I checked out a couple of your posts over there. You've got some dark things in your skull, brother.

The suicide topic gets to me.

Anyway, what do they say, something like the spirit comes to those who suffer. Mmhmm, yes it does nah, child.