enmity
is it fair
is it safe
the sands rise
they fall
they fade
is this my calling
or is it our war
a first-class ticket up in flames
is it all you ever hoped for?
they are the contrary
they are already late
the requiem began when the first brick was laid
is this a system
or a disturbed piece of art
brushing away the cross
the failure
the fault
we are in mourning
we are the dying
white petals
silver arrows
charcoal fingers
sketching dead faces along God's acres
they are the pilots
we are the fare
they line us up in the theater
a castle up in the air
YOU ARE READING
Tearful Canvas: A Collection
PoetryA book of poetry. My very own twisted sanctuary - pieces of art, history, love, hate, and everything in between.
