VISUAL POEMS | 诗歌

The Crow Devours Your Heart

A crow circles in shadows
Above your head, an unsettling light.
Lift your head, hands in air.
It sits looking at a futile dance,
Whom caught in despair.
They told you there’s none above, but
Empty blue.
No pesky crow, yet
Disbelief.

A curtain you drew, a door you shutted
shunning the sun.
Emaciation, a withering form.
So much depends
Upon.
In the final act, a narrative ends as silence calls.

Now it’s eight in the morning, hate in the morning.
That crow, circling dread,
Descends upon the gloomy bed.
The grayish beak, your skin it rends,
The feast begins on a deadened heart.

What were you thinking?
Unease that tears the soul apart,
Or suspicion, distrust,
Or your fear of yourself.

Dreamment Series(1-9)

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