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A Tear of Blissful Scorn

by A.R. Marquez 2 years ago in surreal poetry

A Poem

I've just hidden the stars from my inert

dead eyes

Looking through the sky to reveal all that has been saved for this day

Surpassing the bloodied misconception of this death

it is all but consumed

In the shadow of the snow-capped mountain

rust-tainted rain befalls

the sinners in the dark

With wings dried cold

a heart dripping with grief

and an unpolished halo

It rose

It rose from the darkness

The shadow

It rose

Between the marches in my dreams

The fire is at ease

Abandon souls enlist as dead

We burn down the walls of the sacristy

Looking through the sky to reveal all that has been saved

but consumed

Setting sail on the last time capsule

the exodus of souls is delayed

Coming to senses is like an enemy stronghold upon my heart

With wings dried cold

a heart dripping with grief

and an unpolished

corroded halo

I fall into a mass of sinners

unaware of the boundaries they have broken

They fall into my hand like a tear of blissful scorn

I blow them into the wind and the process is repeated

Into my cold

dead eyes

I come to

surreal poetry

A.R. Marquez

Adam Ray Marquez was born and raised in Northern California.

He writes and publishes Surreal Free Verse poetry, fiction, and horror-fiction.

He played guitar for Held In Scorn.

Instagram = @xVagrantxGhostx

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