.
Memory burns in the depths of pain
Those once alive
Ghosts of the dead shall rise up again
Something cold and ancient underneath human skin
Speaks in frozen whispers of,
Agonies of hopeless love;
Someone walking through a door opening within
There is inside another sky and stars, the night
Assumes an ambiguous form of One who was lost to fate
Dying slowly from a broken art to disintegrate
An effort to qualify
Some things should not quantify
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 302 times
Written on 2022-07-29 at 12:50
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An Effort
Some things should not quantifyMemory burns in the depths of pain
Those once alive
Ghosts of the dead shall rise up again
Something cold and ancient underneath human skin
Speaks in frozen whispers of,
Agonies of hopeless love;
Someone walking through a door opening within
There is inside another sky and stars, the night
Assumes an ambiguous form of One who was lost to fate
Dying slowly from a broken art to disintegrate
An effort to qualify
Some things should not quantify
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 302 times
Written on 2022-07-29 at 12:50
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text