Your Tragedy
The archness in your eyes
It belies your tragedy
The loss of self, a deadness.
For your soul has bled out
And within is dry dust,
A desiccate withered spirit.
For the games been played
And you have cruelly lost.
Crippled you limp onwards
Towards the light of travail
Seeking the inconsistencies.
To gnaw the cracks, taste defeat.
There is dread in the coming night
For there is no shelter from the storm
And you are desolate, ruined.
The rain will dissolve you,
And gone, you leave behind no reminder
No memory that you once existed;
Expunged, defunct, washed away,
That is your tragedy.
poem by Paul Brookes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
