Struggle Poem by Evgeniy Filimonov
Struggle
Flames and ash.
Engulfed in the desolate.
Strands to the evening.
Veiled to the silk of its rays.
To the tinders we crawl.
Question our bearings,
glimpse up above.
Golden adorned and shrouded in laurels.
Submersed in its visage.
To endure the adoration of others,
left to us, the amorous many.
Our veins to their vines.
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: glory,struggle
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4/26/2024 8:22:10 AM # 1.0.0.1119
