Lost Child At Dawn Poem by Tiana Webb
Lost Child At Dawn
Cutting the final edges
from the form.
Loose change dangles
dignity forlorn.
Stake in heart bleeds forsaken
life away.
The blade turns and drains the
soul breath away.
Angel pass overhead and branches shake
out lies.
The blade sinks in
and fifth victim dies.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: death
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4/26/2024 11:28:35 PM # 1.0.0.1119
This is certainly a fine write with tender structure and economy of words, like a series of sighs in growing dispair but rhythmically sustained in equal measure like hope against failing but not foresaken, persistent hope where the real dissipates too easily and fearlessly into the ethereal.