Photo from Pexels by Boys in Bristol Photography
beyond the cemetery’s tall iron gate
intent peers from near the tombstones
my steps too leadened to quicken pace
too late to reach the last transit stop.
dusk like a lighthouse cautions ships
warns that it will soon be nightfall
waves of nausea sicken from within
muscles tense and warmth withdrawals.
uncanny beckons me to turn for a view
to look in eyes filled with a freedom to kill
time, no longer on my side draws near
a shove from behind, on the ground I kneel.
a refusal yet to turn for evil’s delight.
eyes close tight with the departed sunlight.
About the Creator
Anna
Whether I want to be or not, I'm a poet. I like to write longer pieces, too.
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