Final Regrets
a theos
In the stillness, silence surrounds me.
The cold invades my bones.
Descending darkness veils my heart,
while I wander among the ruins
of this, my own mortality.
A fine piece of art
I created for myself
from the rocks and dirt.
Yet tears are cried bitterly
for dreams broken in half,
which lie strewn among the tombs;
monuments to my life.
At last I am left to be
given to eternity;
the silence still surrounding me,
the silence still surrounding me.
A quatrain. If you’d like to support the poet’s benign coffee addiction: Coffee.