05-28-2015, 10:07 AM
Very new to poetry, but extremely open to criticism!
In the Abandoned Garden
Nameless, shapeless, faceless,
society's blood red chestnut blight.
Darkness envelopes and coddles,
even moonlight ignores his plight.
Earthy mulch smudged tatters,
neglected gazettes, rested head.
Blanket wriggles and scuttles,
inky plume-lined feather bed.
Vacant corpse, decaying tree,
a meager voiceless hermit.
A withering rose of consciousness,
once sown amongst the vermin.
In the Abandoned Garden
Nameless, shapeless, faceless,
society's blood red chestnut blight.
Darkness envelopes and coddles,
even moonlight ignores his plight.
Earthy mulch smudged tatters,
neglected gazettes, rested head.
Blanket wriggles and scuttles,
inky plume-lined feather bed.
Vacant corpse, decaying tree,
a meager voiceless hermit.
A withering rose of consciousness,
once sown amongst the vermin.