deepundergroundpoetry.com
Silent offers to the None.
Here they stood, to claim the sinned.
Hear their words, rotted.
Sear they are, peaks of highs.
Tears seethe, a furrow sow.
Abase, how they seek,
Daze by the knives in them.
Husk as they rot,
Mere words fell on None.
Hear their words, rotted.
Sear they are, peaks of highs.
Tears seethe, a furrow sow.
Abase, how they seek,
Daze by the knives in them.
Husk as they rot,
Mere words fell on None.
Published 7th Jun 2024
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