Salamon Atmosphere


Vomit


It lays across the horizon, where the yellow grass meets stone walls. Out on the fields through the wooden gates. Above the barren hills. Under the hungry valleys. Distant from the flattned dirt.

The paths of trodden leafs are nothing but wait. The sky is forever white and the moon forever grey. Banners and shields are crushed by a blade and the yellow grass is covered in red paint.

Melodies of the bard can make a man laugh. Cries of a child rips a mother to pieces. Scream all you want but it is always swallowed. Eaten by the horizon, absorbed into the yellow grass, crushed by the stone walls and silenced by the white sky.

Submitted: Friday, January 02, 2015
Edited: Saturday, January 03, 2015

Topic of this poem: Life


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