New Years Old Wishes
Listen to poem:
I read the cross section of my bones
as if carbon holds my answers,
whilst dreams cushion the sleep of survival.
Discover my realness on inhalation,
a soul wish of freed happiness,
never filtered through to my core.
Tribulation habitually saturates my roots;
branches create shadows that hint at sun,
blind fixation on escape from static, unhindered.
Last words: an incomprehensible chant,
as I'm burnt at my stake for imbibed sins,
unspoken truth once again ~ transposed to ash.
Copyright © Di11y Da11y | Year Posted 2024
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