Nerves burnt to the point of no healing
The light slowly fades from dull black eyes
Nerves scorched to no feeling
Watch as all the surrounding life dies
Slowly raging as inner turmoil tears minds apart
Shredded thoughts slit from anchors weighted of thought
Scorched minds, cinders left of a personality
Living slightly, deathly, no longer lavishly
Deprived of its needed nourishment it withers
Withers unto smoke rises from the scattered ashes,
Scattered ashes of a once lively idea
The un-cried tears stinging those capable of them
Smoke slowly drifting until it mixes,
Mixes with a mess of blood and sluggish lives
No longer worthy of a host body we are stripped
Stripped of our humanity until only the bare,
The vulnerable flesh remains
No longer capable of ailments or pains
In tempest infernos little survives
The bare essence of a worthless life is denied,
Denied even a host in which to grieve
No grieving we are left to harden,
Harden until the remains of what we were erodes
It erodes and begins the cycle of the cinders of a lost life
Now, correct me here Sir Timothy if I am wrong. But I read this as the end of life on earth and those who weep for it? Ten! ! ! Linda
I read this slowly and carefully because I could tell from its structure that it was going to be hard to understand. It was. In fact, I couldn't, despite my best effort, make head nor tail of it. I'm sorry, but that means it gets a 6. I could have given it a 5, but the writing was very sincere and I just couldn't do that. GW62
A powerful message and very good wording. Don't stop writing, you have a gift, so keep it up! And so we go, Paul
Never, never stop word smithing wonderful poem thank you for shareing with us
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
hey tim, great poetry + 10