Wednesday, October 2, 2024

The Mornings Are Hell

The mornings bring their misery and reassurance 

of my life’s decline, hollow the marrow of life, empty

the cup of hope and filled the plate of despair. 

at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

  Herding Cretan milk goats and chanting Greek verses  to poly gods, writers ascribe  to the pastoral hymns of sorrow where time’s the thief...

  • Xiao Zai
      Avoid distress; forlorn hope,  threadbare of loneliness, even  Icarus’ boldness, jubilation, and  carelessness bedeviled his own ego.  Tak...
  • Walking A Tightrope Over The Ohio River(pg. 2)
               We always played cards in the back of Squire's Bar and Grill, a little hole in the wall place. I lost that night at cards a...
  • “The Sadness Will Last Forever.”
         Sitting in a death chair at the Cleveland Cancer  Center whilst my body is being pumped with platinum  grade-A poison. The six hours of...