The glass is shattered
Scattered on the ground
Shot through with common blood
Clinging tight to the edges
Like wearing a second skin
It speaks in shared whispers
The essence of its melancholy
Alive and sparklingly clear
Shaking off ghosts like sand
The memories faded yet intact
Reflected in infinite pieces
Each one touched by a dull red
That used to be mine
Before the end of the world
When anger filled to the top
And spilled over in pain
Awash in a bitter afterglow
Now moldering on the concrete
Like a dead crow’s feathers
Disintegrating over time
Leaving behind these impressions
That might have once been glass
Colored with a rusty brown
That might have made a difference
If this common blood still flowed
In veins of tar and stone
Sacrificed to the gods of fate
Still waiting for the rain.
Sam
Brilliance
Thank you very much.
You are so very welcome. At love your work!