No words can quell
This plangent sound
That howls within me,
The mournful chiming
Of a stoical, little bell,
Entombing the last
Vestige of innocence
I still possess,
Like a tumour
You have poisoned
All that I am,
Down to the bone,
Now what remains
Is a wretched husk,
Detached from the light,
Deadened, ruined,
Lost.
-
Author:
Kora (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 24th, 2026 01:37
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
Offline)
Comments3
What little was there now trampled underfoot and destroyed in this poem of destruction. Well written
Thank you Soren. It contains a lot of pain, and a definite resignation.
You are most welcome Kora may the pain dissipate
Try to transcend your mournful chimeras with black humor !
Quite powerful. Very well written, Kora!
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