The idle solitude
It bites
Steel teeth grasp
A helpless night
Abandoned hope
Slides away
The abyss
Its unholy sway.
Cuts the darkness
Into cubes
Each reflected
In a crying moon
Tears fall
Sheeted glass
The mask it slips
Hours pass.
Scented whispers
On a dying breeze
Floats effortless
To the trees
Branches hung
Meloncholy arms
The idle solitude
It cries.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: May 16th, 2025 01:35
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 43
- Users favorite of this poem: Damaso, RSM0812
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Comments5
Cold hard and powerful images of solitude gives a stark feel to this poem painting a winter picture to being alone. Nicely worded
appreciated, thanking you
A very relatable write to me, some people enjoy solitude, myself I end feeling like this, nicely done
me too, thanks for comment, appreciated
You are very welcome
how I be feeling nowadays, thank you for capturing a shot of solitude in such a deeply personal way. its beautiful
very kind comments, appreciated many thanks
Scented whispers of a dying breeze. Wow.
thanking you, appreciated
A beautiful and contemplative poem.
very kind comments, thank you much appreciated
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