Treasure Island

Lydia Martin


Underground, overground


Shifting tunnels of facelessness
Curve through mottled landscapes.
Discolouration of winter
Brings shape to smiles of grey.
Relish heavenly tears onset
By years of laboured languish.
Haunted thoughts cast with downturned eyes,
Discontent seeps into the marrow of hope.
One touch of flesh breaks a hidden code,
But the fingers of frost hold fast.
Relinquished vanity of vanished delight
Breaks bonds of careworn years.
Reach for extremity and grasp
The still diminishing light
Entwined by forlorn shadows of insincerity.

Submitted: Monday, August 26, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, August 27, 2013

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