of terra-cotta death.

left in shards of broken self

of worn out, wounded skin

in mirrored mirth of dried out hopes

and shriveled life within

hollowed walls of tried and fail

of brittle empty bones

on flatly lined black troubled clefs

in echoed haunting tones;

still thin hands lie open yet

in placid mired sill

of dried up tears and whispered dreams

lay lost alone

-and still.

 

 

 

About lifeofawillow

lifeofawillow.wordpress.com
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s