Poetry

dust

I once trusted you
to shield me from the storm:
the unrelenting chaos that is my psyche.
You failed.
You retracted your talons and took off.
A lone wolf, a kamikaze solider in the Congo fog of night,
you surrendered my trust and left me to wither and die.
I called out to you; my hero, my savior,
the man who once offered
Me the last of his rations,
his horned heart
That soon ripped me apart.
I wonder what was more pitiful,
my unanswered cries
or the wailing of sound
of the almost dying? I writhed as
The pang of loneliness savaged my
my body, ravaged by despair,
my corpse lingered only for a moment
before it crumbled and soon became dust.

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