A torchlight procession.
A search party for what's lost.
Screaming their names in a forest:
Meaning, Purpose, and Control.
The screams are primal
And tainted with despair,
For there's no talisman to rival
The booted march of time,
No sign compellingly apotropaic
To make a dent in history's mosaic.
Philipos
Thu 1st Apr 2021 17:48
A dent in history's mosaic, great line.
If you wish to post a comment you must login.
This site uses only functional cookies that are essential to the operation of the site. We do not use cookies related to advertising or tracking. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.
Holden Moncrieff
Fri 2nd Apr 2021 00:39
Thank you, Philipos ?