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Abstract

p id="cd96">Polishing the sculpture of dismay Looking at the remnants of tomorrow A role fulfilled, a life forever changed Hiding in the promise of your truth Looking for your scent on my pillow Could it be a feverish verse Or the absence of desire? Still searching for the oath That once set this heart ablaze A lonely crow weaves its dream While your soul forever wanders If you cannot perceive the exit

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light Whisper your fear in me and cast it aside The dusk shall come, my friend And all will be torn asunder</p><p id="4a05">This poem was written sometime in August while I was sick with COVID. I thought that I had thrown it away or burned the piece of paper I wrote it on, but it fell out of a journal earlier today.</p><p id="8f20">Maybe this was an indication that I should post it.</p></article></body>

The Oath

A poem

Photo by Mark Timberlake on Unsplash

Polishing the sculpture of dismay Looking at the remnants of tomorrow A role fulfilled, a life forever changed Hiding in the promise of your truth Looking for your scent on my pillow Could it be a feverish verse Or the absence of desire? Still searching for the oath That once set this heart ablaze A lonely crow weaves its dream While your soul forever wanders If you cannot perceive the exit light Whisper your fear in me and cast it aside The dusk shall come, my friend And all will be torn asunder

This poem was written sometime in August while I was sick with COVID. I thought that I had thrown it away or burned the piece of paper I wrote it on, but it fell out of a journal earlier today.

Maybe this was an indication that I should post it.

Poetry
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