loose soil, empty soul

the feral fool
finds solace in
the hole he dug
for himself in
the loose soil
happily pulling
the dirt to bury
his absentee soul
until winter ends
contentedly packed
into darkness
he shall bleed
his sorrows deep
into the seeds
to give rise to
a garden of agony
in subdued hues
when spring thaws
the frozen earth
into a verdant hell
of pastorial dream

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s