Capitulated

The daggers pointing up in our skies
are like hands praying for tranquility;
they jeopardize the hands in our waist
driving us to fractioned states

We rummaged through this holocaust
gushing fast like wounded blood
we assailed our hopes to war
and bludgeon our fears in celestial seas

The quartz devoured our steps
so we lose our ribbons and rivulets
and with every mile we take
we grew closer to the flames -
we thaw, we morph, we change

There's a steel in your eyes piercing
the velvet sheen I held complacently
but I stared on behind this veil
steadfastly, until I shut my persiennes
unto your pictures and absent stares

The path may repent but what can it do
when we have forgotten the shades of blue?
Whilst the sky rages on above us
I surrender to this dreadful taste

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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