WOUNDED
by Chrissy Engstrom

an explosion.
It is not my flesh that has been torn.
New salt floweth freely over cracked lips
my soul is he who bleedeth.

The candle of dreams
a flickering flame.
Snuffed out
with the breeze that was my life.
All hopes
flee with the smoke.

Return to Chrissy's Poetry
Return to Chrissy's Dojo

This page hosted by

Your home on the web!