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Shrivelled Blooms

Sequel Staff

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shrivelled blooms

Searching for memories within a drifting dream
But faces seem to be
Fading like old photographs
Gripped tight between sweaty palms

My mind screams, a guttural cry
Why are thoughts so fleeting?
I am yellow, sick yellow
Alone with hollow and forgotten words

I am not Herculean
I will never slay an armored lion
Nor balance Atlas’s stratosphere
I only lose the things that I hold dear

Fly away, a dove fleeing winter
Fly away from my own evasion and deceit
For learning life means loving lies
And that I cannot help

The moon smiles down at me for I am a shadow
A flower cloaked and lonely
A thousand years I have wilted
Living as a withering posy with no sunlight
Isn’t that all life is?
A collection of shriveled blooms?

*Herculean as in Hercules

Featured Submission 18′ || Isabella Martin

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Shrivelled Blooms