Tristan Robert Lange

Unknown

Like a poem untitled,

Yet far worse,

For that poem has words—

A story is manifested,

Memories thenceforth to be had—

Never to be forgotten

Barring, unfortunately, its name.

Here, however,

Harrowing haunts hover,

Hallowed—yes—

But hollowed; astral whisps,

Here but forgotten,

Lives filled with imago dei—

Divine breath for siblinghood;

Instead, they’re dead,

With nothing to mark their value

But the word “Unknown”.

© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
Originally published on tristanrobertlange.com, September 1, 2025.

Tittu