Solitude
Where are the words
that forged the tale into life?
The syllables green and grey,
that grew out of mists
greener, and made
their way into the closets
of our hearts,
the sounds collapse
along the fringes of molten nights;
the blessed sins and signs
lie crusted on the floor,
while the moment falls
and crumbles in the caverns
of our hearts.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
