She sits in clouds
of swirling vapor
attached to
the
earth
No softness of feather
her features erroded
by ages past knowing
She has no heart
the sand
from her hardened
countenance
her only
tears
A matron, or patriarch
lies at her feet
she knows
not who
She is uncertain
uncaring
a carved cairn
who feels no melancholy
hears no marches
as the casket was brought
She sits in the mist
with no memory
mute monolith
who's sight
is
stone
SoulSurvivor
(C) 4/9/2017
Apr 11, 2017
Apr 11, 2017 at 12:36 AM UTC
She sits in clouds
of swirling vapor
attached to
the
earth
No softness of feather
her features erroded
by ages past knowing
She has no heart
the sand
from her hardened
countenance
her only
tears
A matron, or patriarch
lies at her feet
she knows
not who
She is uncertain
uncaring
a carved cairn
who feels no melancholy
hears no marches
as the casket was brought
She sits in the mist
with no memory
mute monolith
who's sight
is
stone
SoulSurvivor
(C) 4/9/2017
In a very sad place right now.
A friend was hurt tonight.
Nothing life threatening.
A wound of the soul.
