Sst 7 Larnelle idea/ poem

2 Jun

Poem is based off a song by Gregory Isaacs called border. It’s now where near finished. Feedback appreciated.

The pitter patter of feet impressed through the rugged terrain of the outer fringes of that city sitting on seven hills
Toes grip twigs and flicks off the soft clay of western oppression. Ever perusing like the shadows…
A marathon of sorts, re-tracing and correcting the steps that lead from heaven and glory to the footstool of blue bloods
Sounds of hounds barking rip through the darkness.
Nooses slung with skeletons rattling against pinewood and elm
Our labour is fruitless our cries and torment unheard
Our remembrance pour out
Clawing through the corporate vines and thistles that expand to new territories.
My path is set, and I dare not ver from
Pitchforks and primitive touches clang behind me
Further back


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