Loneliest Existence
With the sun in the forceps
Of an ageless night,
The bells at the lighthouse toll
Until they are merely sterile
Breaths.
Occasionally, a ghostly whisper
Validates and dissects
Each tear, each truth.
I can't imagine their loneliness-
watching light burn
Until it is as small as a flea,
While we endure engulfed
In light,
Principals of refuge
And shadow.
Copyright © Steven Riley | Year Posted 2013
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