i dreamt in a foreign language

I dreamt i woke and saw the breath of the dead.
Legions, they were, and were quiet and waiting with such patience
you would say there was no one there.

But the rare mist of their breathing, it waved
a vast ocean of dark stillness - so serene
you would sail willingly, you would wish to see the distant depths
 if you could ignore the fingers that  moved the tide
the cold hands in the fog as they lie, and wait,
the little steps of time craving you off.

I would not have believed that death had unmade so many.

2 comentarios:

Jonessy James dijo...



Debret Viana dijo...

Siempre es un placer tenerlo por aquí.