Bring me light, bring me peace,
Some will fight, some as ease,
Dead men walking, knocking on steel doors.
Dead men talking, conversation is a bore.
All alone, here I sit,
Waiting for the phone, half illiterate.
I hope she calls, at least in her disguise,
Walking through the halls,
Of compromise.
Take off your mask,
Breath in the world,
Firm in your grasp,
All the answers will unfurl.
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Comments3
Here a poem of a relationship whether real of internal or with a higher power it asks for clarity and a dropping of masks. Lovely
Thank you for commenting.
A call to a higher poem to stop the pretence and come clean with the truth, nicely expressed
Thank you for your comments
You are very welcome
Your words weave darkness and light with haunting grace—
a raw, poetic dance that lingers in the mind's quiet space.
Thank you for commenting. And in prose. Lol
Glad my prose met your elite literary standards. 😂 Next time, I’ll send a haiku.
(Just kidding—I’d fail at syllable counts.) Thanks for the laugh!
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