Does it Matter
your damaged life
kept leaking
out of your pen,
in your inescapable quest
To reify who
you were,
who you were not,
anagrammatic ancel,
the murky Seine
drank you at last,
your death--
a poem;
confess, reveal:
what is greatness?
does it matter?
the pain is raw,
you can feel it,
ganz und gar nicht hermetisch,
it lasts and lasts,
in a string of words,
long after
the almond
is enfolded again
by mother earth.
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Dark poems
Intelligence is like a river, the deeper it is the quieter it flows.
Ayon Rose Avorymoon
Community Member |
Intelligence is like a river, the deeper it is the quieter it flows.