Well here we are: this is the darker poem that, if you recall, was promised last update. Really not that good, in my opinion, but there you are.


Life in the Glass

We're all of us in jars, as wrought

Our eyes as one through tinted glass

Technicolor swirls of thought

Captive under skies of brass

Flesh turned liquid, soul silk-thin

Hairpin bones and paper skin

Hearts like clockwork shut

We lie so still for knives to cut

Veins spread wide in websilk threads

Picked-clean bones and unfurled heads

Opened wide, like books, with pages

Made of skin and pale rib cages

All of us preserved to lie

In lifeless sleep and never die

Then open up like parasols

Our ageless forms on full display

They couldn't save our fleeting souls

At least our flesh is here to stay

Embryonic forms as wrought

Sleeping softly, everpale

We lie in silence, lost in thought

Our beatless hearts will never fail

We're all of us in jars, as wrought

Sleeping living gods in thought

Half-past death, beyond the ages

Dormant lives in thick glass cages

Never dream and never die

Ever sleep and ever lie

In ageless fluid not our choosing

Better to be dead than losing...


Well, if you liked it, do please review. If you hated it, might as well tell me. Again, I'm still accepting requests, and if you need anything else PM me.

The poem is, by the way, about critters preserved in jars. I didn't want to tell you up there lest I prevent you from forming your own interpretations.