Hunted...

I have been hit by a
hunter’s bullet
and a red dotted line
follows my trail

The bullet lay near to my heart
in a fit of laughter
it squirms its way into my heart
bruisng it as a sweet revenge
My laugher turns as
A blue sky to grey
with a torrent of pain.


My hair has gone
My body
a Skelton connected
by barbed wires.
My parched mouth
taste blood on an orb
once called a lip.
My sobs dryed
glued my eye brows
Blindness is a Bliss


My words hardly
touch my love
Hackneyed phrases
Lay bare like a sofa
on a deserted home


I waited for my day
To sleep on the rock
Once my rebel hero
laid his life
Now it lay decorated in a
museum of lost revolutions.

To how many names
Should I be sorry
Before this soul exits
from the Skelton

How many dreams
Lay before me
Like a waste bin
not cleared for months
Let me also lay
Beside it
And wait for
My resurrection and enlightment
a final path
to a grinding Waste Machine..