Wreaths of Wild Flowers

Beyond the silence of

bark and scented leaves

torched

by proud invasion

 

Away from the living

spliced in darkness

the dead accept

their wreaths of wild flowers

 

A home,

amongst distorted legends

fading epitaphs and pictographs

 

Among thorns

condemned

they sing

songs of death

endlessly

through the seasons

 

It is hardly a solemn ending

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Filed under Outlaw poetry, poetry

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