11 Saturday Jul 2015
Sweet hours
once ours
filled
with happy noises
now ruled inexorably
by silence.
The quiet quietly devours
the insides
like maggots
feasting on the dead.
From the graves
we helped dig for each other,
cold and blue,
our eager eyes look to the stars,
futilely far
for missing warmth.
©Shail Mohan 2015
Linked to Prompt 41 – Weekend Wordle #6 at A Prompt Each Day
Untangling crazy ideas
Politics, things that make you think, and recreational breaks
Darwin was right, Ham was not left
The blog of Sandy J. White
A photographer's view of the world - words and images to inspire your travels and your dreams
Thank Allah for small mercies...
just a few random thoughts!
Behind the scenes...
"How quickly comes the sun when first it sets its mind to rise." - - j. s. v.
A Little Bit of Everything and a Whole Lot of Nothing....Politics, Entertainment, Movies, Gossip. What's Life, if you can't see the humor in it. :)
Official/Personal Blog
“How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.”~ Henry David Thoreau
abode of inspiration...
Goodies from my mailbox and camera...
Urbanites in the woods, doing all our own stunts.
bibliotherapy
a 100-word story every day
We are an autism family. We are one loving unit, and autism is a part of who we are.
The ultimate guide for independent travellers seeking inspiration, advice and adventures beyond their wildest dreams
‘Futility’ — a word bereft of hope
Without which, one can’t cope
Of warmth there’s nary a mite
But those stars do give us light
So let that Silence, with Song, elope!
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂 Brilliant as always!
LikeLike
Such despondent poetry
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLike
Such vivid imagery in sad and yet, lovely words. Well done.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Sheila 🙂
LikeLike
Blown away, as always, but the preciseness of your verse 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Usha! ❤
LikeLike