Alcohol


purple big easy magazine
Purple Flame

The candle dimly glows.

The shadows come and go,

Passing across my face,

As I struggle to leave this place.

The flame begins to wither,

As down my arms you slither,

Somewhere between a snake and a snail,

Your trails of slime leading me to fail.

 

The candle flickers,

And is finally snuffed,

By the winds of indecision,

Be they gales, breezes or puffs.

Thy fangs are bare.

Thy voice is death.

Though your face is fair,

Your heart is bereft,

Of meaning.

Of purpose.

Of hope.

 

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If you enjoyed this poem (or even if you didn’t) be sure to check out some of Big Easy Magazine’s previously featured poets including Sharita, Nolan, Julia, Tyree and Joao!

 

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