Poem -
DEATH ROW
Through the bramble and the thicket
Through the gorse and the morse
I drag my famine self
To the mirage in the desert
Where beads of living water
String shafts of burning sunshine
Rows of corn to feed the self
But the dew dried with the moon
The lake was but a dream
And the vampire sucked the last blood
That watered the row of death
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Comments
Shaiqua Murshed
Though short, the poem is too strong. Congrats, My nomination
Love
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
Thanks yet again. As a palliative care physician, I face death all the time. Coming to terms with it always leaves a void.
Shaiqua Murshed
We all face death, it is inevitable, Be positive
Love, Regards
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
The dead end of life.
great write congrats x
Thank you, Susan O'Reilly.