Death has many faces

Who is it that walks down my frozen hollow
with no time at hand and no eyes to spare?

Acid oceans cringe and turn in winds
we no longer care to embrace
with absence of fall out and old ways of no bones.

It is a pirate age we cling to
where all is bought or spent.




Poetry by Bob
Read 632 times
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Written on 2010-03-22 at 11:04

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Much interesting imagery ... and a haunting poem indeed.
2010-03-23


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This text has been chosen to be featured on the front page of PoetBay. Thank you for posting it on our poetry web site.
2010-03-23


shells
A chilling and compelling piece, somehow I felt there was more to this than I could see.
2010-03-22


Charlie
Such a touching and haunting poem. Charlie
2010-03-22