Midnight handsA Poem by Ana B.Could’ve been a hole in the sun Lost in the thunder’s whisper… Following obscenities…one by one… Till the wind in my lungs will disfigure
By the river I’ll walk on air Till you count your dead - My insolent, internecine glare Beautiful. Raven haired.
Sighs playing piano… unconcerned. And if tomorrow earth drowns in fire Those sighs will still play, unreserved. Who’ll reconstruct this empire…
When the words are no more?
© 2015 Ana B.Reviews
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11 Reviews Added on August 16, 2015 Last Updated on August 16, 2015 Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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