Discovery

 

 An explosion of every sense,

        the tounge grasps the lamb,

slaughtered and woeful demise,

 

The ear may recall the laughter

yet cannot taste the organs,

 

The eyes may perceive notions of

every woman and

child

they may have accustomed to,

 

But nary a sense

that has longed for love

as the

element of solidarity spirit.

 

And in the dark recesses of the void,

lay a ground walked upon,

wept upon,

                  and broken like

      glass

              in the furnaces of creation,

 

We may speak to you in genial, trivial

happiness,

but just disregard may be in order.

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[K C Scott]

Your words are amazing! Each one was like a new color added to a tapastry.
Great write! The line: And in the dark recesses of the void...is absolutely brilliant! I read it a few times out loud just to fully enjoy it.
:)