What Of That Morning That Lied Astray Poem by Miroslava Odalovic

What Of That Morning That Lied Astray



In pitiless bottom of an outbreak quiver
Spilling its ashes on a transparent tray
Remorseless in the eyes of a believer

I stood still gazed atom edged and cut
In a drawing nigh all blurred clouded smudged
I stood still astounded with no sound but
A message bottled world that bore no grudge

Against the ruins closing of its own
Against an abyss of all the things known

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