Printed from WriteWords - http://www.writewords.org.uk/archive/13222.asp

Untitled

by  Flora Gael

Posted: 02 March 2006
Word Count: 43




The sea is on fire.

The night is bone-white

and you sing like a cemetery,

your voice stained with dirt and death.



The flames have thawed.

The day is blood-red

and you pray like an piano

your chants filled with dreams of death.