Notice of absence from Tristan Robert Lange
Friends, I’m doing my best to keep up with comments. 😅 I’m still current on my own poems and first replies on others’ work, but this season has been a bit of a twister. Figured I’d drop a quick note so you don’t think I’ve vanished or gone flaky.
Read. Write. Rise. Realize. 🤘💀🖤
Friends, I’m doing my best to keep up with comments. 😅 I’m still current on my own poems and first replies on others’ work, but this season has been a bit of a twister. Figured I’d drop a quick note so you don’t think I’ve vanished or gone flaky.
Read. Write. Rise. Realize. 🤘💀🖤
Here I am again,
Awake and alone,
Left to ponder life's mysteries.
But what do I really know?
The cold night air
Cuts my flesh like a knife.
The blood letting begins
In crystallized, jagged shards.
To be warm again,
To feel warmth's embrace,
To share in the mysteries
Of all that is and ever was.
I am but flesh and blood,
A man, if I can be called that,
A mortal coil, frail and fragile.
I am death's surly smile.
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: December 14th, 2017 00:21
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 22
Offline)
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