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Writer's pictureNigel Smith

Eternal




They cried a savage love of kisses few,

when the tides of seas and cities changed, flowers falling about the sooted brick,

when the concrete first cracked, and

song was the only colour;

tempered by burning black, there walked

quiet despair, he of heart & soul, taken

by harsh tithe of twist and writhe.

Wired and fired amongst the amps and

ambulance ramps, he dropped, awaiting

the wane of tremor unto twitch,

his moments stopped.

Mind teased apart with every storm

'til sanity was by fingertip caught, and

sweeter grew the darkness sought;

her fingers traced the rain's run upon

the window's pain, cruel its clarity

denying touch, to see but not to reach

the frantic and the calm of a drowning man;

only the static hiss of vinyl, the click

in the groove final, turning in eternal end,

where a savage love tore all apart.





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