PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My bronze and brunette chains eroded,
each ledge I could grab hold of rounded;
all semblance of my soul has lifted
and ridden fumes from cell to sky.
The engine ran 'til fuel was siphoned
or 'til the shell was robbed of key
and as my former self is questioned,
the truth inside me will disperse.
To join again with thinning air and
rising with atmospheric change;
I'll goad the thought of my departure
until it's the only one I'm aware of.