alastair wallace

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3 Droplets Of My Blood - Poem by alastair wallace

I touch the disappearance
And whisper the vanishing
Clashing with the tides I swim against
Taking a deep sigh…am so resilient
Underneath the grave, a birthplace for death
A spiritual connection on a soulless boulevard
The Christian to the Bible
The Muslim to the Quran
Forsaking the sands of time
A fist full of sands with time
Drowning in the color of aggravation
Compulsive rehabilitation takes my soulless emotion in amalgamation
I cling hence, to the twilight of my frost immortal
When do I stand against this dilapidated error?
When do I retaliate out looking the preposterous aftermath?
How do I finish the start?
Even worse, how do I start the finish?
I search for my birth
I seek for my death is borne
A fallen angel with the devils horns and the holy halo
I cry out to Allah,
‘Condemn this razor blade
For it has touched the vanishing
And whispered the disappearance
Clashing with the blood it swam against’
3 droplets of my blood!

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Poem Submitted: Friday, December 18, 2009

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