Constance La France's Cemetery Contest...posted 29 May 25...' re- post for seth pina's favorite #4...No one is completely prepared to bury glorious memories...' by poet
Somehow, the deluge of cloudburst unwraps my flesh pallid, as if to spill holy water--maybe thickened dew—just to give a name to lapses of my unheard cries, while an insolent breeze fails to listen as I howl in utter despair of life's requiem: The thistle of wet soil chains my feet anchored unto the swell of memories' bend; remaining distant in an unknown, vacant cemetery nourishing a loneliness only vagrants like me could bear: A scream of rain compels a thirst to feed on abrasions of ghastly pang...alone, isolated from new moonlight's lodging my solitude, my invisible frame starts to sigh behind the roughest of rain's marbled stone--- How can fresh mornings be so darn bleak?
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