New Memories, Old Death Poem by Akhil S Behl

Olden sediments, from the first mornings,
Baked into hues, green n blue,
O'er yonder, by the parent sun,
Have bloomed again.
But this night,
Into ashen buds.

And i fill myself full,
With this fertile stench-
Of puerile blood,
Of the dead morning flowers,
I had held,
Last forgotten morning-
That rises off these new pores,
As if from opened graves.
As if from the new memories of an old death.
As if,
A new death foretold.