Nero

Nero,

Tonight

I think to myself

 perhaps I

may understand

Nero,

 

Fat with grease,

he is strumming poetry,

while the world is

in flames all around him.

The word

Nero is black.

The flames are black.

He sings while they burn

black ,

black as the charred ashes

left behind.

Except I think,

to myself :

Am I  guilty?

Did I light the fire?

Perhaps I did.

Perhaps we all did.

From “The Black and other Base Elements “by PWChaltas

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s