Litkicks Message Board Archive

Final Stage Performance........

Posted to Action Poetry




I am a rolling stone
A tree with roots
That have not taken
And leaves that have not grown

I will die soon
I will wither
I will fade
And rot beneathe the moon

My hands play death
Like death written
In ancient text
The pages crumble with age's breath

The breath of age
The erosion of my soul
The pall bearers
Are all dancing on my grave

An earthen stage
The final stage
Performance....