fingers combing smoke

 

 

 

 

taken in by mystification

and great confusion

alterations covered in tears

like a ghost speaking

in a voice less than a whisper making wishes

 

his tempo becomes patina

like silvery white

in a pitch black scene

passionate naked shadow quivering

withered, within an inconsolable soul 

 

words fall off of lips as cold cursive

prepared with tinted emptiness
silently, a torture of tongues unchanged

availing the unproven

while this poem labors

 

hands writing  agony

with this commission to paper

anguished over the incompliant lines

scribbles in all directions

like fingers combing smoke

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a.griffiths57's picture

    Beautifull use of words,

 

 

Beautifull use of words, your poem is a great creation. Good write and enjoyable to read.


 

 

http://www.postpoems.org/authours/a.griffiths57