IA ( / )

Illusion

We thought we have killed the past
When angry halters hanged its neck
And purifying tongues walked over its carcass.

We thought we have stitched our wounds
When perfumed promises licked up the gangrene
And bewitching oratory fanned our pains.

We thought we have downed our mats
When bright-eyed future had smiled
And we counted the flashy teeth of hope.

We thought we have mended our breath
When soulless night had aborted its howls
And sentenced its clutching shadows to death.

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Comments (1)

The past is part of us! ! ! Life goes on. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.