Carlo Angelo Buan Poet Other

Grief Giving

this is darkness looks like, a void
filled with blackness; everything's coiled
a scene, winking yet not annoyed
taking a step into a
grey gates towards world of the

things that never meant to be seen
across the night of an obscene
moonlight, revealing all the sin
once out of the spotlight, but
only if you focus at

black holes looming over above
the outer space containing love
for dead, providing a vast cove
holding what's meant to be gone
give graves for those once human

now an inanimate object
to those which goal's refuse reject
turned to a shooting star, erect
out of tall desperation
you're set out for a mission

perhaps remind the pain, through a
crater over your chest; a bay,
now fade, where you once used to play
along the sands of regret
you let it melt with your sweat

thinking writing of something sweet.

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