Pricked by the bloom of winter flowers with thorns that soothe my skin.
I see a warm day’s moonlit sky; cold streaming from within.
Bare and barren, broken trees, shade night from reckless dreams.
At dusk, I wake from sleeplessness to silent piercing screams.
Through miles I wander, standing still, along this short-lived span.
Each step I take just leads me back to where my walk began.
Blind onlookers line the route; with sightless eyes they stare,
and jostle for position with the crowds that were once there.
With lowered glass, a portent toast to life’s all I propose.
Scent of decay is sweetened by the stench of summer rose
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Author:
T. Boston (
Offline) - Published: December 20th, 2021 00:22
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 7
Offline)
Comments2
a little bleak, admittedly
but still a wonderful read
and imbued
with such vivid imagery,
thanks for sharing
It is indeed bleak. Thanks for commenting.
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