Stigma
The season changes again
No ice here, but winter's crystal claws are real
Something in me long to born again
Something is yet afraid to feel.
One cannot without the other be,
And the one who makes the chain is never free.
I love the leaves, the quilt
Of colors about to die. The colors
Flaming like a rainbow before the wilt
Of green falls brown. Soldiers
Are coming home, and still I am sad
And only my sorrows
Make sunlight into arrows
Dying and losing is now a modern fad
The despised is not veil of night
But the fear behind the light
For what if the wretched become
Masters of a new kingdom
What if they are not converted
Shall the next holocaust be averted?
All arguments are denials, and emptiness
Where the leaves fall on a dreary wilderness.
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.
