The Collector Poem by Victoria Lyn
The Collector
Raging winds
Oblivious to the silence that forms
At the core
A collector
Hoarding the misery that exposes
The flesh
The reality
The illusion
Swirling, twirling until none is recognizable as truth
Dreams; nightmares; hope; despair
all become one
until only a faceless image remains
Thrown by the Rage
a ring in the ear like laughter…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/19/2024 6:49:56 PM # 1.0.0.1119
