Grief (As Such)


Grief is a foreign empire


I huddle in fellow-man arms,

my neck unable to support my skull,

distant in an anonymous world

where my body's like a beast

in the slaughterhouse without grace,

a soulless creature

in endless longing;


everything familiar and customary

undressed and torn,

suddenly and all at once,

and the cold does with me what it will


in the blinding chill of light


Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 22 times
Written on 2023-01-17 at 12:46

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text