The epitaph
Of tomorrow
With quiet eyes
And silent breath
Listens
Most intensely
In the shadow
Of todays death.
The short hairs
Upon skin
Twitch intent
Upon the morn
Of the day
I"ve yet to live
Enduring still
In hours storm.
For promise
Is a fallicy
In the mind
Upon the thoughts
Of the day
I"ve yet to face
The coming night
The falling dawn.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Online) - Published: November 11th, 2026 03:10
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
Online)
Comments1
Good write N.
We're condemned to the fact that the bus will never come! lol.
thats true enough, i am at the bus stop now with my flask and sandwiches lol
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