The light that flickers in the distanced air;
The fog shifts; it covers my face, dispelled.
Shadows of the city emerge light-bare;
Our past pathways rudely shot to hell.
-
Desolate and aching, handcuffed and caged;
Never fully retrieved in the right shape.
Chasing us with contorted faces, gauged;
Begging to stay and still walking in cape.
-
The world around changes, good and evil;
Mixed ingredients, making cake of strange taste.
Intoxicated by crestfallen lull,
Irreversible damage to the chaste.
-
Our lives locked in monotonous rhythm.
Shimmering with colour in unsafe prism.
About the Creator
Moon Desert
UK-based
BA in Cultural Studies
Crime Fiction: Love
Poetry: Friend
Psychology: Salvation
Where wild roses grow full of words...
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