Weak of mind,

and spirit.

Distracting images and

colour appeals.

Where is the light?


Nagging halts,

brazen disregarding all;

sympathetic lies,

day after day.

It wasn’t my fault!


Bearing stoic courses,

departures stalled.

Yesterday beckons but

tomorrow’s insistence

begs you leave off today.


Nothing but whimpering,

shadows retreat.

And evening’s loneliness,

too brief.

Sweet sleeping death’s embrace.


No more thought;

no more dreams.

Nothing but emptiness,

and Mother’s Void.


© 2017 L. Tafa


Author: b20f08

I enjoy solo wargaming and writing. The first caters to the boy that never grew up; the latter satisfies a deep desire to communicate. Cheers.

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