To Fall

to fall

into the unknown
dimension

where lovers
leave

words like
poets
bleed lament

where
corpses heed
none

but their own

condemnation

 

is more
than just

morbid salvation
undone

where shunned
is reprieve

born
on sleeves

worn
as weary

in storms
of contrarian
fears

shared

by one

is
to walk
into scarcity

piercing
the sun’s skin

where verity
ventures

of time’s
volition

Author: Max Meunier

Feminist. Ailurophile. Musician. Poet. Human.

3 thoughts on “To Fall”

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