shadows crept
the length
of disquietude
distilled
in the wonder
of our willful dearth
lumbering
through morass
when last we plundered
this scorching earth
she blindly scrawled
three bold runes
that burn yet
still
within
this piteous pith
of tormented ruin
immune
to time’s retelling
they rave and revel
in a rogue reminisce
Max, or Not 
Damn. I read this out loud. Now I can’t remember my name.
LikeLike
Reblogged this on Sudden Denouement Literary Collective and commented:
Brilliant wordsmith Max Munier
LikeLike
Nice picture
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
Very enjoyable and well written poetry.
LikeLiked by 1 person
i truly appreciate your generosity. Thank You
LikeLiked by 1 person