Worn Poem by Sarah Dharmasiri

News come lightly as feathers falling from soft wings of doves
But lands as hard as mountains of terror
Angels treading softly where fools dance in
Over the sense of self.

But the sea is dark and fraught with wrecks
That bounce against rocks wailing
Banshees howl and sirens crawl
Over waves walking on water

The tide will turn and churn out black broth and broken maids
And those left standing a shore
Heart close to hand with broken breasts
Can surely conquer land.