Civility and Ruin.

Ever venomous is the tongue

spat in the darkness as the day has become

ever weakened in will is the Warrior’s son

ever reaped is the field the seed scatters upon

empty sits the place we meant to make our home

abandoned in the country from which our line comes

dilapidated in layers of dust and broken bones

ghostly and haunted by a truth all our own

 

 

Ever cavernous is the womb

hollowed out through and through

ever freezing more deeply like an ancient tomb

ever pleasing in secret to become likened to you

empty shall the streets remain for far too many moons

abandoned are the whisky glasses left in the saloon

blanketed in viruses we had no resistance to

ghostly is the line drawn between civility and ruin.

Go ahead...say somethin'!

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