For one moment
To kiss immortality
Passing briefly
Without return
The grasping of
Its fingertips
As if a dream
Of tumbling words.
Lingering lullaby
Lips of the dead
The slowly closing eye
Its tears now are shed
The old gates lead nowhere
Reluctant to the wind
In an element of fantasy
Pages which have sinned.
The clocks hands frozen
Stains about its face
The faintest hum in unison
Dry lips cracked to taste
False Gods and angels
Tread a weary path
Waiting for a new day
That never comes to pass.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Online) - Published: June 12th, 2026 04:17
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: Lorenz
Online)
Comments2
This poem well worded wends its way along forlorn paths that seem to have no end. Very nicely done
Thanking you always appreciated
a glimpse for an accessible beyond ...
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