Reply To: Me poetry, you poetry

Profile photo of manillascissor
On manillascissor wrote:

scores of books piled sky high
stainglass windows fractured below
perfect pews on a sunday morning
sitting at attention to a silent lecturn

smoke fills the ceiling arches
the candles are beaming with fire
wax melts down the sides
to form mary in the puddles below

snowfall bleaches the color outside
lighter and lighter the hues turning brighter
so gently tightening a suffocating noose
by blocking the doors from the inside

only the blind could ever see
before their own eyes
a sunday morning tragedy
with blood for tears

the sparrow’s sing as their hearts cry
for only the deaf can hear today’s sermon
and only those without voices
could ever speak in such tongues

such a ghostly way
for the blessing this day
to wither and pass away

in my time of dying