in this world of joy and sorrow
heavy grows our masks in this masquerade
this paper life, this empty grace,this sting of death
for what left now this bit of soul grown null and void
too late too late the sands have drifted away
we are left naked cold and alone
harsh winter winds hold tight wrapping
our bodies in raw,rigid darkness,frozen in time
10 comments:
So it goes. Too often. I feel the cold wind as I read this.
Life is often all a masquerade...perhaps we can take off the mask before it's too late. Thanks for this beautiful poem Melanie.
Thanks for stopping Sandy. Yesterday was so dark and gloomy I guess it just got to me.
Melanie
TWG, much thanks for reading my poem.
We all wear them. To let them slip is so very hard to do.
I am happy you like my poem.
Melanie
Maybe it's a protection/our protection and yet, as you say 'heavy grows our masks'. I am liking how your words have got my brain thinking.
The dark aura sensed from this poem doesn't erase the beauty of your words.
Heavy masks and a cold breeze... I can understand it being dark and gloomy!
Hi Saraha, thanks for reading my poem. These days I seem all dark and gloomy but then I love to weave dark poems. Glad you liked it.
Melanie
Rosidah, much thanks for your wonderful comment. I am happy you like my work.
Melanie
Thanks for stopping by Diane. Sometimes gloomy fits this time of year. Today it is beautiful. Cold and a bright blue sky.
Melanie
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