Ramblings and Paintings of a Mystic Wanderer

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Last supper....

Clandestine they sup

from the lifeblood of each other

behind the veil of words

….their arrows drawn….

with smiles delivered

born deep into the well of heart

where tears of life

form Poems ..from fantasies

there they seek and find

……the heartache sitting……..

in the orchard of possible scenarios

..... contemplating.......

a getaway from the puppeteer

a way to cut the strings

without the knell of death ringing

in the ears of a lost conscience….

at the last supper of their love.

Posted January 27, 2011 by oshum