Until The Silence Reigns
and so it happens
the clock strikes seven
you dream about curtains
catching flames
the house screams
and you discover you
are but a wall of this
structure
you look at the clock
on your side
it is seven
but seven what?
you get up from bed
and proceed to the CR
wash your face
feeling like a wall still
you rub the soap
and feel your cheek
you slap it
you feel like a wall
and the curtains continue to burn themselves
the house scream at its loud voice
you are still this wall
and you do not really care
to ash from ash
and to ash you shall return
there is no hurry no fright no panic
let death come with grace
the wall is flat and inanimate
let the curtains burn let the house scream
until the silence of the ash reigns
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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