Andre Archimbaud

arshimbo

  • Blog
  • NYStandard Podcast on iTunes
  • Voiceover Emporium

Subway Stories – Crusted Rust

April 4, 2011 By Andre Archimbaud

When I get the scent of youGeVlose enough to catch a glimpse…
I see what I see…nothing but a simp.

A closed door with open wounds.
Writhing in simplicity.
You live implicitly.
Open the door, cast out the tombs.

Hadn’t seen the likes of you
In years of my obscurity.
All your crusted rust…
Reminding me of thee.

Digging, pushing, feeling, reeling.
Unknown, unshone, keeling, sealing.

I know how you got this way.
Saw all of you fall away.
Good became evil.
Four horsemen had their say…
With your soul…

When I smell you…
When I get close enough to suffer your stench…
I find what I wouldn’t in a trench.

An open door with closed up wounds.
The stink that abounds
A mire that drowns…
Close the door, cinch the tombs.

Hadn’t seen the likes of you
In years of my obscurity.
All your crusted rust…
Reminding me of thee…

I know how you got this way.
Saw all of you fall away.
Good became evil.
Four horsemen had their say…
With your soul.

Crusted rust.

sharing is caring!
TwitterFacebook
  • Blog
  • NYStandard Podcast on iTunes
  • Voiceover Emporium

Copyright © 2025 Andre Arshimbaud - Log in