Chris G. Vaillancourt

Silver Star - 3,046 Points (April 5,1959-june 2016 / Canada)

The Sliding Abyss Of What Must Be - Poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt

Soft spoken words are heard
in the chambers of the strings
hiding
in
the
light.
The shining flags do not
flutter
in
the
thunderstorm.
H anging wet and limp,
they drop failure
into
the
mud.

I want to remember
only the good dreams.
Celebrate only those
things that make
me smile.

Ahead lies the
limping man as he
deteriorates
into
nothingness.
Lyi ng on a bed
trapped in his
goodbyes;
his focus on
the memories
left to him.

I will not be
the man I used
to be.

I will not be
strength
or
hope.

These I shall not
be able to offer.

Let him shut his eyes.
Let his skin bristle,
burn, evaporate
into the
sliding abyss
of what must be.

Topic(s) of this poem: cancer, death, despair


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 30, 2016



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