Wounds of the dead

sorenbarrett

A ghost imprisoned in my chest

chained to walls of memories

Guilt's shackle's disturb my rest

garroted haunting reveries

 

Dark shadows color stone

with blackness of words never said

Acrid reverberations groan

dripping echoes, wounds of the dead

  • Author: sorenbarrett (Offline Offline)
  • Published: April 22nd, 2024 04:32
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 7
  • User favorite of this poem: Teddy.15.
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Comments3

  • orchidee

    Ahh good, how did you know this is my daily life with KP?! lol.

    • sorenbarrett

      Grim, very grim Orchi. Thanks for the visit and hope you find the key.

    • Teddy.15

      I find myself leaning heavily towards regret, wow your imagery is completely visual, your pain your guilt caged in your very rib cage ouch, brilliant sorrenbarret just brilliant. 🌹

      • sorenbarrett

        Thank you friend for your review and most generous words of encouragement. Once again they are most appreciated.

      • Goldfinch60

        Those bad things remembered can be put in a box within your mind soren.

        Andy

        • sorenbarrett

          Thanks Andy your kind words are most appreciated. I learned long ago that denial only buries and does not resolve. It is through admission that correction occurs.



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