My blood pours
Words spill
I Motion forward, but my heart empty and still
I lost it all like a robbers ravaged till
How I go on I don’t know
A corpse crawling for salvation
A remnant calling for excavation
Instead only scavengers find me, as I lay ill
Black and cold like the crow
They peck and nibble at my wounds and organ yet to be sewn
I’m dying slow
Eating my own festering brain akin to sea squirts, or Paul upon Hannibal’s call
I lost it all
This is my fall
Labored breaths, heavy chest, I lay waiting for god to claim what’s left..
About the Creator
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More stories from Kenneth cruz and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Fairy Dance
Introduction This image made me think of Irish and Welsh mythology, so I have decided on an ekphrastic casbairdne for the form, which, although quite short, is a very difficult form, and this is my first attempt. I did find this very hard, but hopefully I made it work.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred a day ago in Poets
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Welcome to the Winners Announcement for The Ritual of Winter challenge. This prompt focused on winter rituals and the meaning that settles into them over time. The top pieces stay grounded in ordinary acts and repeated routines, letting winter shape the work through pace, attention, and restraint.
By Vocal Curation Team5 days ago in Resources
Comments (1)
This was so poignant. I loved it!