The blood of ink
Wept from his soul
Cannot abolish
Or console
The hollow
Filled
With echoes
Where
Once he loved
Her.
But now the air
Is like a stair
That charts the miles
Of broken hearts
And shattered
Smiles...
© Janet Martin
Love everything about this short hourglass poem. The pain it's filled with is almost palpable.
ReplyDelete:) thank-you.
ReplyDeleteThis is not like what you normally post...neither the content nor the style...and yet, this is my favourite so far...
ReplyDeleteJust wanted to let you know that i love your writing...keep posting :)
Yash, I sincerely appreciate your comment. thank-you!
ReplyDeleteYou're most welcome :)
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