The blooms shroud what's hid beneath
only shapes hint the concealed
as bright flowers distract the eye
from a crypt absent a hearth
last dwelling place for my heart
only the ghosts still dwell within
revenants that life will not cleave
disturbing memories long deceased
these echoes shroud by petal's blades
blossoms placed upon the grave.
© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.20181018.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem