when to wake in your chamber
from slumber that is eternal
it seems as though we are
the decision upon the open marks
calming winds through open windows
the sweetest things in bitter drinks
so came the blood in the sink
i will see the edge beneath
the flowers and their illuminated petals
flowing over the rippled waters
getting a more prophetic love in its dream
sinking teeth on the fruit of life
mortal piece of the overt machine
i will die upon the bridge
a sweet essence of tomorrow
this pond will become forever
YOU ARE READING
if not human
Poetrythe anthology of emotion, the passing of life, the epilogue of pure, unfiltered regret this is "if not human" poems, prose and stories from the dark
