Buried
Shadows of unfulfilled fate
On the wall of my mind
Hugely drawn, awaken my spirit
On foamy bed, wild and soft
Lost in hush soliloquize, I lay
Stomach plastered to the earth,
As I watch the crave for breathe
Of mummies living in the home
Build six feet below earth surface
With no response to their thunderous scream
And my ears deaden
By the whispers of whisht
Breaking the border of gloom
While in vain struggle for rebirth.
Despite the dread encompassing every step,
I stroll down the quiet dark street
Of my thought without second thought.
It’s a quiet place,
Like a yard of graves
Filled with a thousand tenants
In horrible camouflage, all but dumb.
Copyright © Ann Yeeka | Year Posted 2021
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