Clinging hard metallic walls <br />with veins sucking sweetness from little <br />leftovers trickling down <br />the gorse stayed dancing between <br />open spaces of hell and heaven. <br /> <br />Death like tussle with elements <br />yellow blooms suckled pollen <br />from air vents travelling in the streams <br />passing within reach <br />shedding its seeds into the waiting <br />arms of rare tourist birds <br />sojourning in the skyways <br />of distribution and danger. The gorse <br />started small, spread quickly <br />and took over the countryside <br />with no one watching. <br /> <br />The caliphate was born <br />under the black hood of death <br />and the guns aimed at all <br />with scimitars of control <br />too late to stem <br />or seep the spreading venom. <br /> <br />Whole armies now sacrificed <br />on the altar of ideals. <br />The crusades will begin again. <br /> <br />© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved,2 months ago<br /><br />Marshall Gass<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/gorse/
