a hollow twist where emptiness
evacuates, no joy in being here,
no life in this now vacant space
where echoes ring in soundless
waste where ear’s rewards are
ever rare; portentous voices do
persist within a dourly sad remiss
as haunting as its poisoning
this enmity of silence schemes a
harsh rebuke for guileless dreams
you’ve yet in confidence to bare;
disgrace afflicts naivety whose
innocence is counsel’s plea with
words they whisper patently
© 18 January 2011, I. D. Carswell
No comments:
Post a Comment