A LIFE, SHRUNK

By Monica Mills


Where there is desperation, a keen urgency to flee,

A listless hum of purpose that doesn’t apply

Escape is an immutable mobile, it perishes

As ash in the mouth, as reason once again

Rears its head.


Where there is dissolution of hope, an anchor drowning,

A fetid swamp of emotions bubbling, broiling, expecting

Freedom becomes tangible, no longer an abstraction,

As clocks chime erratically, nostrils filled with

Stagnant breath.


Where there is devastation, a forest littered with stumps,

An empty graveyard of lost opportunities, of alternatives,

Liberation comes with consequences, billowing hurricanes

As wings flap lazily, creating a turmoil better left

Dust covered.


Where there is distraction, however mild, from hyenas,

A simple yearning for another embrace, that outshines resolute

Release, so keenly felt, focused, procured, now disintegrates

As vapour condenses on a Coup é De Ville, and curiosity

Ignites life.


#darkpoetsclub

© Copyright Dark Poets Club