The Mourning Lady Poem by Emmanuel Isuku
The Mourning Lady
In that dead silence she lays,
Swinging her hands drowsily, so tipsy
By the wine of life's unpleasant sting....
Her eyes soaked in ruddy tears....
Catching a vague glimpse at the sun -
That jinxed sun,
As it falls into its western vale of rest.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: silence,sun
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8/29/2026 1:31:20 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
