Eulogy to Poetry

Sugar granules on my eyelids

define the numb, static voice

beneath the waves of poetry,

absolute darkness.

The times flutter on asymmetrical length

hypnotical lifeless mellow tunes.

Words break, poetry aborts

A mother takes a life of her son.

It’s sharp. Black.

As I think, a tree detaches a leaf

As I swirl, a star weeps

End. End. End.

Nature perspires wax,

drooling loose vibrations,

Ink is lacking from my blood.

My blood is blue in reverse order, stale.

How many more tantrums?

Time is satirical,

and my body sinks in pits of crime

Analogies weep and mother smirks.

Time ruins beautiful things,

spring- Ataxia of Poetry.

P.S- It’s not a complete Eulogy, but it’s quite insane to think what if one day it is?

© MVS