Burning Bell
We lay flowers on the grave
never gave them to the living
we put them in fancy vases
when we finally say I love you
a sundial whispers -it's too late
You think you've mastered forever
'til forever scratches at your graying door
dreams never fly without feathers of hope
blowing away like Mojave Desert gold
Limestone hearts worn away by indifference
everybody's taking -so very little giving
everybody's sitting in the same dark cave
talking to the saddened shadows of themselves
hearing only the echo of their desperation
sliding into the mouth of the burning bell.
Copyright © Anthony Biaanco | Year Posted 2024
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