the season
of exsanguination
came and went
and there I spent
the auspices of youth’s adore
whose glory
I shall know
no more
though hollow scenes
have stayed the hour
sentencing the hearth
yond mire
I remain
the entropy of birth
beholden to its herald
More poems should be about entropy. Thank you.
LikeLike
Youth and innocence are lost, so easily, and once they’re gone, we can’t, ever get them back, and nothing will, ever be, the same…
LikeLike
❤
LikeLike