CRIMSON AND BURGUNDY

The hand of dawn crush my will
while i lay forlorn like autumn leaves,
on a night, wet by silence.

Sounds became louder,
solitude threw mortal blows,
but pleasure called me out.

Here i am
on the paved road to ecstasy,
like a car on a sloppy road.

The intermittent hip stride
trail hardness like flies,
making stealthy move towards filth.

Space is getting blank, time is freezing,
and all things wore dark,
while my hardness bust, white streak of white.

©Adetola