Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.145.17.123
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
VANISHED

We are the echoing voices crying within the darkness,
Melting mists of vapor co-existing amongst the living,
The ambling drifters shifting between reality and limbo,
The vanished.

Displacement malfunction, the frozen chill in one’s space,
Happening without explanation, the corporal spirit sliding
In the temporal rift as if a doorway has opened then closes
With sudden forces slamming,
The vanished.

Running at full sails speed the ghostly ship hanging on the
Distant horizons cresting wave, the Bermuda Triangles curious
Answer, never revealed, a planes broadcasting its S.O.S. then
Nothing except statics silence, the walkers of historical significance,
Never heard from again except in dusty monologue’s ancient text,
The vanished.

Rebukes despised disposed by hatred lies of malice, the forgotten,
Yet we touch the living by the night’s lunar light, angers tortured
Languishing amidst the flames of hell’s fire, crying out for justice
But receiving only torment, silences footsteps heard amongst the
The land of the living,
The vanished.

Sacrifice’s vanished foe, given to the idle gods of the past,
Manipulations fallen solider who gave his life for what
He believed was a justified cause, the lost soul of the
Innocent that does not realize he lies in the kingdom
Of the diseased,
The vanished.

The crumbling ruined city, with its lingering residences,
Still haunting the abandon streets and venues of the past,
Do to tragedies misguidance, or alliances bomb shelled fortress
Torn apart and left to molten ash, these shadows of innocence
Remain, behold 
The vanished.

The dead man’s sleep walker, emerging from his cryptic
Tomb, suddenly realizing it’s survived the end of the world,
But now he’s all alone, in isolations one celled chamber,
As the human ash cloud descends upon the last ma
On earth falls to his knees and screams out loud, why,
Dear God, why
The vanished.

Listen to the voices carried upon the wind,
It is the vanquished seeking answers without
Replies response, the weeping victims of time
Bang against our shutters windows, and knock
At the front doors of our souls, they will not
Be ignored,
Those vanished.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required