softly spoken at midnight

softly spoken at midnight
where tides break with
unspoken tirades in peace

nourished by origin
I see fragments settle

the sea of night
turns all tales to salt

no other ache is mine
no further no less

the agony of hunger
is mostly discrimination
freezing in the ongoing
distance of a lullaby

wrapping words around
the organic legacy we are
is also an account

with an elusive brush
the eye of seeds dance
to a virtual dying




Poetry by Bob
Read 533 times
Written on 2014-04-22 at 22:03

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