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Image for the poem Mourning Toward the Void

Mourning Toward the Void

 
in the burial ground of discord
williwaw rules the night
gusts so powerful
so intrusive even the dead are fearful

one lone man

sits among ancient bones
hearing whispers and sobs and regrets
of discontented souls
those who cannot leave this place

solitary tear falls on wrinkled, sad face

among the dead
it is he who holds the secret
of those entombed
the ones who moan

his name is notlob and he is damned

midnight screeching on this night
moon so cold looking
I'm sure she's a virgin
an oscar says because he is wilde

among the strong gusts voices heard

cataract eyes look but do not see
blinded as a child
to ward off temptation
and concentrate on the graveyard of withered saints

please take me away I've served my time

notlob, on his knees sobbing
not a figment of his imagination please
looks to the sound of
laughter

silence comes again, only graves talk

in the hour of darkest night
he is lost in the bog
aching for something called affection
remembers the name but not the occurrence

in the dark he loses hope

in the burial ground of discord
williwaw rules the night
gusts so powerful
so intrusive even the dead are frightened
Written by standingmyground
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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