Musings

29 4 0
                                    

Be gentle, sky, and let me rest -

These bones are worn - they lack the zest

Of flesh in life - they're marrowless! -

Their arid surface, nakedness! -

Betrayed in death; no sheen of red

From coursing blood; and blue was shed

Upon the fading out of eyes

That cased the world and gave disguise

To what my deepest thoughts had been -

But now I'm done with all I've seen.

Harmful poemsWhere stories live. Discover now