Rip
Ripped apart a shadow
as the shreds
passed through my idle fingers
They turned to blackened wine
dripping on the tortured
tarmac
Its gentle mewing
whispered
is the abyss
ever empty
but nothing was there to answer
echoes arguing who came first
and the darkness insatiable thirst
betrayed by the light
Copyright © Christopher Quigley | Year Posted 2019
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