This faithless god
kneeling in cloisters
stained with butterfly dust
and crusted tear tracks
keens
unheard and unmourned
except
in abattoirs of mangled hope
and fertile fear.
when god’s tears burn dry who will cry for us?
A little glimpse into my heart. Your comments are welcome at the link below. The other link below (NaPoWriMo 2022) will take you to the 30 poems I wrote for National Poetry Month's a poem a day challenge.
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Thanks for writing!
Jacqueline