bereft
60
a feather descends on
my brow kissing sleep
away the birds are
leaving weeping as
they go a funeral
march of dark things
of sound in flight
the curtains bleed
grey in the grey cold
is the color of light i
fall undead through
the cracks on the
floor my soul is as
silent as nevermore
i am unfound...bereft
CommentsLoading...
I feel my heart beating in empathy,
Lovely words, precisely used.
i
fall undead through
the cracks on the
floor
Mindblowing imagery, Cris!
@pbwriter - thanks for sharing :D
@Twilight & Shalini - I hope you never tire of saying things I'd love to hear! Haha Thanks for reading :D
Wow!
As usual, powerful...but really morbid.
Thanks DG and Alek :D
wow I am impressed beautiful poem unusual words.. I love it..
I voted up and beautiful
debbie
Thanks Debbie. Nice of you to read and post a comment :D
"unfound", groundless, lost. You never cease to impress, Cris :)
Well I'm inspired by other poets such as yourself. :D
the curtains bleed
grey in the grey
A funeral march for a much morbid scene indeed, as one falls undead between the cracks on his floor, this is a compelling verse, very gripping and bereft indeed. Nicely done Chris, bravo.
Thanks Ken, I appreciate the kind words :D
we are left bereft Cris
Came to late to let you know how mush as always i enjoyed your work....
pbwriterchick 4 months ago
Great write. A solid image with minimal words. I'm sharing! :)