~
There's no light or end
at any "end" of the tunnel
of truth.
The times of sincere moments
eclipsed, but what happened
between day and night?
The answer is hidden like
a ghost inside the wall
of my memory,
and I cannot recall the gray
dusk between the transition
from white to black.
I think about now -
how we feel as if we
hate each other
deep down,
mostly due to unforgivable regrets,
so we take the anguish out
on the enemy.
When at war, there is no dawn.
With nothing more to lose,
we shoot, we kill
the little pieces of heart
left in us, haunting us
since we feel so scared and
lonely and dead already.
Buried in a hole six feet deep,
I'm trapped by an honorable casket
and its cursed walls,
covered in cob webs and an old scarrab
taking one last creep across
the skeleton of my soul.
~
A contest entry
- Favourites ONLY by Laura Lamarca.
1300 points, ended November 20, 20 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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17 views and no comments? tight-fisted fuckers.
my favourite part is the end stanza...it smacked me in the nose...i liked.
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Thanks, La. I think the lack of commentary is because this poem just isn't up to par, but hey I entered anyway. lol
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