Assuming decay

There is no flesh upon your bones.
Such rays of moonlight only dazzle the naked blood.
You drift through me like a ghost.
Swallowing hungry souls.
The waters relent.
Heaven subsides.
And though all around hold their breath.
Inside the caged bird dies.

20/03/202219/03/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: bones, death, waterTags: art, bird, blood, bones, dark, death, decay, ending, heaven, poem, Poetry, skeleton, water 1 Comment