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~Gunshot Thought~

A gunshot thought
And my mind spills on paper.
Blue blood from my finger
Hands grey with matter.
I read the splatter
See my voice in horror.
Bloody poems
Read
Reveal what I've said
Deep within my head,
While the exiting wounds bled.
I'm as heavy as lead,
And my dreams are dead.
Without gasping a last breath,
My eyes roll back instead.

By: Sean O'Mara.
©2004-2009 ~Azrael3D
Details
Submitted: December 30, 2004
File Size: 574 bytes
Image Size: 282 KB
Resolution: 1460×1165
Comments: 33
Favourites & Collections: 6 [who?]

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Author's Comments

One of those killer ideas
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Comments


This is like one of the best poems about death i've ever read
Wow thanks for saying so!

and cheers on the :+fav: !

-Az

--
A man's home is his skull. -Sean O'Mara
You're welcome! You're such an amazing poet
goodness your such a good poet! :+fav:

--
conformity is the last refuge of the unimaginative.

Moony and Padfoot! Fighting apparitions one ghost at a time. You confuse them with long sentences, and while they are befuddled I slap them like a girl. What do you say? I think we've a career in it.
How sweet! Thank you!

-Az

--
A man's home is his skull. -Sean O'Mara
Excellent poem!!! :clap: :+favlove: Nice signature too....

--
Always remember: you're unique, just like everybody else.
no problem!

--
conformity is the last refuge of the unimaginative.

Moony and Padfoot! Fighting apparitions one ghost at a time. You confuse them with long sentences, and while they are befuddled I slap them like a girl. What do you say? I think we've a career in it.
Thanks so much for saying so!
Your signature isn't too bad either!

Also, Cheers on the :+fav: !

-Az

--
A man's home is his skull. -Sean O'Mara
incredible as usual... *shakes head in amazement* :)

--
we are all dreams in the void and everything we imagine is real.
~a.a. attanasio

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