Becoming Invisible
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Somehow, the deluge of cloudburst
unwraps my flesh pallid, as if to spill
holy water--maybe thickened dew—just
to give a name to lapses of my unheard cries,
while an insolent breeze fails to listen
as I howl in utter despair of love's requiem:
The thistle of wet soil chains my feet
anchored unto the swell of love's endings;
remaining distant in an unknown,
vacant graveyard nourishing a loneliness
only vagrants like me could bear:
A scream of rain compels a thirst
to feed on gushes of life’s pang...alone,
isolated from new moonlight's lodging
as I hide my solitude, my invisible frame
behind the roughest of rain's marbled stone.
Resubmitted : 11/10/2017
Contest of Craig Hawkins:
Depression and Sadness
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2016
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