Tuesday, November 30, 2021

The Postmortem

A creeping plant spreading everywhere with blooming flowers in a color blast.

 

She had dreams,

Like an autumn blast

Caged in a white frame,

Until the shredded hopes

In a pacifying twilight

And the dune of moonlight

Kept melting and falling

Splat

Onto her soul

To spill it out

Of its dear home.

 

And there was a postmortem,

Only to find a big void inside

With the shimmering shadows

Of a Moon blanched night.


No comments:

Post a Comment