Frank F. Atanacio Poet Dramatic Verse

Cold Breath

The infant whispered,
his cry for help,
cold breath,
silent death,
musty smell,
the parents couldn’t tell,
he weeps,
they sleep
chilly night,
cold heart,
bright light,
sadly it waits,
to be discovered,
black birds covered the sky,
no silent cry,
and there was no apparent reason,
they covered the moon,
as death lingered,
a cold breath,
and death loomed.

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