Lurk

Malcontent to stop me dreaming.
A bitter play that keeps revealing.
Scenes upon a static stage.
A macabre heart for this new age.
For doubt replaces it’s bloody setting.
A pumping organ that keeps forgetting.
That you lurk inside this past.
A haunting ghost that always lasts.
And wades on through our murky trauma.
Pining for a love that former,
took the place you now reside.
And kills this love, you try to hide.

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2 thoughts on “Lurk

  1. I see the monsters here as jealousy and depression.
    The line that traps me most is “A pumping organ that keeps forgetting.” A like a poem that slays my inner demons.

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