Ruin Poem by Sara Dickson
Ruin
Standing upon a dream carcass
I ponder
Who holds my identity
Since I am no longer me?
Under my feet
Bloody, crimson-colored muscle glitters under the red sun
And where once was a beating heart and a living body
Naught remains but a pile of smoking flesh and bones
And standing there
A maniacal laugh escapes me.
Who am I?
I am but a ruin of what I once was.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 7:07:48 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Fascinating thoughts in this poem. Worth contemplating. I like it.