Memories surface, as rivers
merge with the sea, once
abandoned a strong memory
of how life went wrong.
Cold dewdrops are falling upon
the heart, warring with the soul,
the mind, slashing the spirit
Consumed in grief like a ship
sinking at sea, winged and
wounded living in the shadows.
Flesh seared by many, it did
No one cared, the soul was
shattered, living in a black solitude
within the mind blocking out all
who were unkind.
Thirst and hungered for a chance at
life, received grief and strife. Now
the cemetery holds the pain a slab of
granite with just two names.
Life merged with desperation and
despair in search of someone who
may care. In hurt and sorrow, the
soul drowns, too late for happiness
to be found.
In this the cold and final hour,
remembering life , all used up soon
to be free and at last rid of life’s
Poetry EBook on Amazon.com connect link in sidebar – Thank you AJM
2 thoughts on “The Final Hour…”
Your starting line has an immense effect ….Nice one…I often read your poems
Thank you so very much. Ann
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