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Voiceless Victim (V.1)
Choking on an imaginary breath
the kind that lingers just out of reach
The irony within the lack of speech
as the spheres close
weighted down by heavy clouds
suffocating
drawing out the last spit of life
weathered and worn
severing the ones so freshly born
Within a shaking palm
so insignificant and cold
the blue skin quivers and cries
but no tears come forth from closing eyes
darkness, light, darkness, light
flashing before the sight
of the voiceless victim so young
awaiting death to pluck him from this
limbo
weak willed and dying
taken away
far away.
