Baylee

Hollowed

Ire

is in the soul

of those who hurt

 

It burns

a gaping hole in the heart,

leaving them

with no rock to stand on

no hope to hold to

 

Acrimony

It’s the fire that destroys

the heart’s paradise

Replacing it with

the black bones of trees,

a lifeless landscape

 

Leaving a hollow shell

of what it used to be.

 

Comments2

  • Goldfinch60

    Good write.

  • Lizzy Renee

    Wow, I love this poem! 🙂



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