Monday, November 11

Empty Bodies

Empty bodies.
The hearts have burnt out of us.
The rain is fire
an astigmatism through which we can't see.
Purple wings of desire
twist dully in the atmosphere.
We just want to feel again.

Consolation is a shadow
fastened to our backs,
its eating out our souls
burning all that's left.
Without our beating hearts,
we're hollow
We are what is left.
Empty bodies.
Your power is in Nature

1 comment :

  1. that's a good poem i really enjoyed reading it thanks for posting it on here for us to read and enjoy


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