Sanctasanctórum
Suffocation flaunts its threat, an end without drawing breath.
Death, to be undone, although unsought, must, in its order, come.
Lying low between Earth and sky, ocean's rhythmic crashing nigh,
pulse of blood, blue veins throbbing, clench for the racing flood.
Spin and spin, o worm of my own devising, flotsam weave in
jetsam weft, rolling tide rushes salt chuck under pebbled cleft.
Time has, in all its vagaries, amassed a cool buttressing wall,
carved out this hollow, a darkness I'm soon bound to swallow.
Seeking refuge, engulfed in dread, I withdrew to a hidey-hole,
imagined I'd undo whenever I wanted to, reversing said scroll.
Thread dispensed cannot be rewound aft, words unsaid or soul
un-scrolled with craft. Fear-caught, delivery seals the draught.
YOU ARE READING
Magpie Pearls
Poetry~ This poetic journey started when I began questioning why I write poetry. The assumption I'd come across pearls of wisdom to impart is quickly challenged by readers of "Magpie Pearls", leading me to explore truth in a broader sense. Is truth univer...
