Memory
Raging
The sea moves rapidly,
My mind does not
Move at all,
Gray feelers into the fog
Through the mist beyond,
Dew drops over my hands
And onto my cold feet,
Nothing equates as much
As this view does,
I harbor hate
For her evil eyes,
Piercing through the grey
I don’t see anything
But her trickery,
And the blood rain
Falls,
Pools of it is near,
But not on my dew
drenched soul,
I scream
Loud echoes trouble me
And she quibbles
She quibbles
Russell Sivey
Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2015
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