Pieces Of Us Poem by Rickardo BecklesBurrowes

A confusion of branches cut across borrowed skies
dancing toward a sunset which stirs us to tears.
Orange melts like egg yolks before our eyes,
clouds sizzling blood red melting away jagged years.
Our island of past love shifts uncertain, distant -
dangerous now are the seas around,
underneath, time measures our ending as if it were overdue rent
for the horizon signalling the unspoken ending of us without sound.



Taken from Journey,