Existence Poem by precia liz

This sad undertone of existence
sways the little lilac flowers away
onto the soft grip on the rails.
Mute comprehension of all languages
sweeps in through the cold winter air,
on all the reparations of the ladder of eyes
in the least remorse of our ancestral sin.
Like the contempt in its awakening,
all Menorahs are put out at once.
The lighthouse our eyes got stuck to,
glides away in the moonlight
into the lexicons, we had tossed away.
The kind we have formed into
will burst into nothingness
when cold black blood seeps out the door
into the sun which never rises, you know!
The tall tower of empty dreams,
I weaved at night with void
waits at the creek edge to tumble into depths.
What have we come here for?
And where have we reached?
Let me unbundle my grief
alas! you gather my wounds
before this world loses its war forever.