Short Poems
short poems
Muster On
It is not with ease
Nor haste,
But with sweat
And blood,
That I muster on.
Glass Tear
Here take my tear,
Leave it there
Upon your nightstand,
Where it becomes glass.
Shredded Flesh
Closed volts,
Hidden trinkets,
here -
Beneath the flesh,
Which you have shredded.
Careless
Careless are we,
Beneath the sands,
That move within -
The glass.
Empty
Needless to say,
I-am-empty,
Nothing to give,
But my glistening gold.