Transformed Creators

Tumultuous we gander
The haphazard hours away,
Feeling through fractures
Until wholly unwhole
Elucidations pound
The aching heart further
Into the emotive silence
That calls out for reckoning,
Climax and assaulted
We shiver and shrivel
Into each other’s non-awareness,
Sparkling synergy spent
Within our own created womb,
Protecting us from nothing
But our misinterpreted hearts,
Where were we today.
Taken from the harsh substance,
Mulched together, agents
Of the dying breeder, trashed,
Forlorn we crumble inwards,
Nothing more than
Hollow people, filling hollow
Lives, what days must
Wait ahead, behind
Closing doors to come,
To little, to late,
Fate comes to blind dates.

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Poem © Phen Weston

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