Undying Sun – Poetry

Undying Sun 

By J. A. Weymouth

Damaging these old tattered bones

Tokens, now hung above static needs.

Ever trusted, ever stored.

We, basic, in all powered sources/scrounged

Depthless

Beneath

A symptom of the heart. What heart we need? What heartless? All heartless

 

ethereal/earthless.

 

More sunken, more devoured. Little by little an epiphany comes.

 

Ideas shriek like stricken grass – all grass becomes golden in a dying sun.

And I see not your eyes.

Sure, your eyes are here within withered loneliness.

You are my eyes.  My fervent, undying eyes.

16 thoughts on “Undying Sun – Poetry

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