Untitled Poem #3

Mirror Mirror on the Wall
show me please
how this day will fall.
Grim Reaper dances through the streets
pockmarked
pitted
cratered
scent of death in the air.
Words were thrown
gauntlet down
little boys playing big boy games
never knowing the terror that would abound.
Seer
tears streaming down her cheeks
sits high upon the mountain
safe
secure
no fall out here
watching the destruction of this world.
Words were spoken
they came to be
no one was saved
for no one would heed.
Mass destruction
madness bred into the lines
never again shall mankind move forward
destroyed by the pettiness
of tiny little men.
Oct. 18/18

Spirits

Crimson lips
dipped in poison
whisper pious words.
Head bent forward
prayer of supplication
no need to fear.
Cross to bear
my own.
Hatred to shed
yours.
Unsure if I am able to go forward
without the abuse of your dead.
Walking amongst the forgotten
fingers trailing
whisping frost
disintergrating
from my warm touch.
Each spirit I stroke
echoes  a plea
‘let me go’.
I look to release them
from this plane.
Forgiveness is not required.
I see thickened strands
black shadows
acting as shackles
keeping them close to me.
With a single thought
I unlock each one
allowing the spirits to flee.
Sept. 7/18
Photo by Michael Weidner on Unsplash