Even the Wicked
Shivering tinder, blazing breath.
Words whispered by ember’s death.
The last gasp of the risen;
slowly falling unto tomorrow’s shadow.
Sleep comes even,
to the wicked.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
