on the cusp of the knell,
his knuckles clench
onto the hues
that fade in daunting
progressions
scarlet jewels
upon his helmet of humanity
turn to dismaltude
unjustly, for his time
creeps away like
the mounainline of the EKG
he holds on his chest
a tarnished trinket
containing memories
fading to greyscale
before him-
but his eyes cannot see
beneath the dark cloaks
that weigh so heavily
he tries
but the world goes shut.
Post a Comment
Be the first to comment on this article!