I am in the presence of wet fury.
A cyclical beast, dripping moisture.
Revitalisation through decay and collapse.
Escaped and hidden in the valley of shadows.
Take my freedom and bury yourself in the collapse.
There are no sunrays forced upon my skin this day or night, to regulate myself and become separate from the suffering of constant growth and energetic onslaught.
I return to the lichens and moss, with trees that decay and melt.
The fresh, breezy inhalations of life's greatest mysteries.
And I lay down and be.
Myself
And all there is.
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Author:
Dara Ó Rinn (
Online) - Published: October 18th, 2026 08:03
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3

Online)
Comments1
The power and exhaustion of emotion in this poem. Nicely worded
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