Image for the poem A Scrying of Crying

A Scrying of Crying

What becomes of these strange sums
of existence?  Each a series of seasons
of become, each a strum of key in a chord
of destiny, each a sight seen/a song heard

Even if only by a lonely night  

What becomes of these things?  Buried
in the ground, sent to ash in a flash or flurry,  
climbing the layers of the stratospheres
only to fall as feathery ice or heart-heavy

*   *   *


*   *   *

having a clarity of despair in the eye which peers
Written by Cipher_O (Zero_Stillness)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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