The Face Is A War Mask

The Face Is A War Mask prose poem

Uploaded by flyer Jay

The face is a war mask
And the eyes are made for crying
The mouth is poison
And the skull a cathedral
Dreams are dreamt
But are not seen
And sleep is slept
But is not solid

Blue is the sky
Only in day
That veils the black of space
Blue are the eyes
But only in circles
That surround the black
Of our bodies
Blank souls
Never hiding

Words like clouds
That hold only rain
To wash away
And souls
Like words
Are too much alike

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

2 Comments on "The Face Is A War Mask"

Notify of
Sort by:   newest | oldest
asoke kumar mitra

nice composition………..but heart wrenching write.


Road War

Road War short poem

Hoisting the bisexuality on a figurine, I crawl back to anxiety. The primitive instinct was taking over the stitches on a snake. What do you want from a moon for the drooling mouth of a seashell? Braiding the breasts against

The Mask

The Mask elegy

Strangers on the street stare at you in awe thinking to themselves that girl’s got everything; even the people closest to you are blind, blind to the storm brewing in your mind. Your best friend says your pretty without makeup.


War short poem

I feel like a ghost since time I am lost Spread my ashen coat on white city roads Go where no one could go Douse in snow, Travel between worlds alone So far from home My steps echoing, I soar

Progress With War

Progress With War long poem

The need of the hour is peace As the consequences of war are not like breeze Countries are grouping, so are the citizens Unity is strengthening, but, against other unions Deployment takes place to deplore another state The death of

Yellow Face

Yellow Face short poem

When life falls apart you do not pick up the shadow. It is the shadow, which gathers you in arms. Little things make a difference a diety comes at your door. And a gift lies broken a little bread was