Dance of the Dead
Semi-Stream of consciousness poem.
By Paul StewartPublished 2 years ago • 1 min read
Photo by Ardian Lumi on Unsplash
dead are conscious of nothing
yet, their dance
raves noisily in my head
lingering, clinging
their broken mortality
remains, transcends
imagined, yet beautiful
conjured, yet organic
haunted, yet comforting
lest we forget
and our minds become
free but empty
quiet, but lonely
*
Thanks for reading!
Author's Notes: Quite a sombre one...but meant to be positive, even in grief.
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About the Creator
Paul Stewart
Award-Winning Writer, Poet, Scottish-Italian, Subversive.
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection out now!
Streams and Scratches in My Mind coming soon!



Comments (4)
Those last three lines slay! “and our minds become free but empty - quiet, but lonely” 💀
I wouldn't mind being free and enjoying the quiet although it's empty and lonely hehehehe. Loved your poem! 🍩🥐
nice
very good