deepundergroundpoetry.com

m o m e n t u m

Still and silent,
this jilted heart:
momentum gone--
no spark to start.

Tense and tight,
this parch'ed throat:
wizening spurn
that squelched My troat.

Fingers forfeit
this empty hand:
with naught to touch,
the sense does strand.

Embraced no more,
this hollow chest:
no cheek to ease,
nor palm to rest.

Limp and longing,
these pining limbs:
lorn, they lack, like
church without hymns.

Begrudg'ed breaths
do feed these lungs:
words departed;
last song was sung.

Curst, I cast-off
these worthless ears:
volute echoes ...
love's easy tears.

Still ... so silent,
this jilted heart:
momentum gone--
no spark to start.