top of page

Gulf of Mortals


 

Flames from your pyre reach the skies.

Undefeated by the storm's endeavor to appease.

Words, images dance around that heap.

Mourning in lieu of dried up tears.


Proximal to paper, they singe, carbonizing.

Now, the soot waltzes in fire.

Limbo resumes, quest remains ineffective.

Inadequacy destroys motive.

Repetitious apathy triumphs.


This bequeathal of bereavement

thoroughly unwelcome, dear father.

 

Comments

Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating
bottom of page