Release

Dawn-Over-New-ZealandThe mourning comes
Swift like death
With eyes open
Mockingly sweet
So saccharine
A passive engagement
Painted in blue
Deceptively thin
Like a razor’s edge
Slick with blood
Awash in tears
That never end
This gentle rain
Tender as morning
Conscious as fear
Hoping for a release
That never comes.

Sam

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