Buried alive.
Lost at sea.
Now standing here
as a zombie.
The heart without
beats for her.
The hole within –
a nest of worms.
Powder strike,
without warning.
Blown from the
waking world.
Powder strike,
without warning.
Blown from the
waking world.
For years they grew
as a tree.
Limbs entwined,
a shield of leaves.
Now roots exposed,
twisted stem split.
The storm crossed her lips
a felling kiss.
Powder strike,
without warning.
Blown from the
waking world.
Powder strike,
without warning.
Blown from the
waking world.
Ashes to ashes,
dust to dust.
That lie does not apply
to this.
Wandering beyond time,
repelled every place.
Yet neither flesh nor
memory will abate.
Powder strike,
without warning.
Blown from the
waking world.
Powder strike,
without warning.
Blown from the
waking world.
Blown from the
waking world.
Blown from the
waking world.
© 2014.