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)

  We travel from one place to another- the huddle-fuddle of life going from one frame of Hell into another frame of Hell. Where is the mythi...

  • The Tree In The Meadow
    The great oak stands magnificently alone in   the meadow, far from the nexus forest. Seasons  have passed for the secular oak as decades...
  • The Bluegrass Tavern Chronicles(page-4)
           One morning cleaning up behind the bar there was a loaded sawed-off double-barrel shotgun propped up beside the cooler underneath the...
  • Grasping Hope
    Man's defeated when born, yet he contrives an escape clause, and that's to be immortal.