They Slaughter Poets Dont They ..

They Slaughter Poets Dont They .., originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

184,808 items / 1,454,696 views

before the
blade kisses
the nape
of his neck
they give
him water
a few words
of the scriptures
they say
he looks at
his butcher
straight
in the eyes
before
the last light
of his life
goes away
a tear melts
holding
love before
he says
meae meae meae
the butcher
wondering
why is he
not dying
as arms
his legs
he flays
his cosmic
goats mind
remembering
happier days
hope desires
he had tasted
on the way
when she
patted him
the first time
on the streets
wounded
bleeding
he lay
a karmic accident
he fell in love
with his savior
to his dismay
her mystique
made him a
loquacious
poet
a shocked
may
it happens
unintentionally
love is nothing
but a broken
pot made of clay
unable to hold
the water 'of life
that flows away
into the gutters
by the way

this is now
my last poem
of the i was
a sucker series
her last wish
i shall respect
to my dying day
before
we part ways
love is nothing
but a fruitless
poetic chase
moments
within
moments
is all that stays