Barathrum At Night
When pyknic tendrils of sweat rack faces
And inebriated lips crack into sobriety,
Obscure night prophecies; life-forecast dreams
Insinuate images of imploding hopefulness;
The lonely pebble encased in a cacoon of vanity
Encompassed by an opaque mist of damning disparity
One sole solution:
Staring heavy into the black firmament,
Obstructing visions, hence concluding futurity.
We are acquiring the might to prevail then
Through the hecatomb of bloody day.
poem by Mark Challenger
Added by Poetry Lover
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