Floetry

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Sunsets Green

An apprehended King,

In the days owned by a Queen.

Three flowers red,

Sunsets green.

All the charisma of a messiah,

Eyes of a fire,

Words of a liar.

Blood runs down,

Till its tired.

Hind sighted visions.

Illusions of everlasting manipulations,

Maniacal decisions.

Promises made to the earth,

Vows remembered,

Ruptured of worth.

Then they are strewn across city streets,

Graffitied onto prison walls,

Smoked,

Along with bits of the carpet.

When tomorrow comes,

When tomorrow’s done,

We will dance,

She said.

We will strike the moon with our fists,

Until she drops into our laps,

Perhaps.

We will dream a field into food,

Undress a star,

Love hard,

She said.

In the days of the Queen,

Three flowers red,

Sunsets green.

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