Apocalypse One.

Born on a dead and lonely planet
She opens her eyes to witness a stark new day.
All she has is her mother's grave.
Aftermath of apocalypse
will her world re-populate?

Walks the earth imagination working
where did the human race go?
Will they return, or is she destined
go mad on this godforsaken world?

Echoes From a human voice reverberate.
But it is only a recording,
a masculine tone she can not fathom.
The words he speaks, afford some solace.

Love grows, fantasy keeps her sane.
A true romance
With in her starved brain.
He must be her savior.
or she will live her life alone.

About This Poem

Last Few Words: Thinking of making this a series.

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: West London, GBR

Favorite Poets: Pablo Neruda , Jack Kerouac, Alan Ginsberg, D.H Lawrence, Jim Morrison's lyrics,

Comments

lou

14 years ago

Lou

Lou,

as you know as I have already said about this piece elsewhere...this is my favourite Lou poem of all time. And I still can't put my finger on...why?

regards,

lou

14 years ago

Dan

I can't tell you why you like it, but i'm glad that you do.

Lou

wesley snow

14 years ago

I think most everyone knows that I prefer the even rhythm/rhyme stuff, but this caught my attention. Perhaps it's the story or maybe the spooky language. Anyway, I was able to "see" the poem as I read and I think that's the crux of it all.
Since Xena gave you a little suggestion, perhaps I may? I think "witnesses" needs to be singular.
wesley