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
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‘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!
🙂 Brilliant as always!
Such despondent poetry
🙂
Such vivid imagery in sad and yet, lovely words. Well done.
Thank you, Sheila 🙂
Blown away, as always, but the preciseness of your verse 🙂
Thank you, Usha! ❤