The Dead Past Poem by revathi suresh
The Dead Past
A heavy rock
Upon that heart
A trickle of blood
Frozen
By the lips
Eyes still wet
Mirroring the sky
A crown ornate with
Thorns
On the dome
So holy
I stand amidst these
Still forms
And behold.
A wisp of smoke or
A snowflake or
A dead leaf
I am
As I see
The dead past
Before me
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9/23/2024 5:04:37 PM # 1.0.0.1119
