BROKEN STONES… a dark poem

ices on body of water

The burden of the broken stones

Weigh heavy on the mind

Whitecapped waves crest and foam

But cannot wash away the crime

Building blocks to small to see

Poisoned the whole of the base

Years of neglect have now captured me

As I slow to a crawl in my pace

Hindsight lends no healing sauve

For this conjured soul of the damned

Only regret of a dying wretch

As I crumble into sinking sand

Author: What Words May Come

Hopeless romantic; joker; father and grandfather; husband; sportsman; part-time writer;

11 thoughts on “BROKEN STONES… a dark poem”

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