b r e a t h e d e a t h

An ache inside the caged loud heart
an itch within each vein of hands

to ink the thumps, restless, so loud
da dum, da dum, da dum, breath found.

Perhaps, like leaves of red autumn
under the full October moon

the muse woke up, and then, looked up,
opened its mouth, and then, fade out,

to kiss the earth, its deepest core,
to die with words, is not dying

at all.

©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

For dVerse MTB — Iambic Pentameter.

14 thoughts on “b r e a t h e d e a t h”

  1. Da Dum Da Dum. That’s exactly how it felt. How did you pull it off is a mystery to me. Shows your level as a poetess. And that last line almost made you hug so tight. Indeed, when it is with your words, your music, or anything that is a part of your soul, is not dying. We artists survive in our art. Please keep writing my beloved. Your words keep me alive too

    Liked by 1 person

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