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my soul in foreign lands, forgotten 2
A soul's etched cartography
compasses spins a needle frantic
above a parchment of skin.
A map…
Each line a river I've drowned in,
blood I waded and divide
each faded scar
a language scarlet, unfound!
My soul no longer shapes
foreign land of waste annihilates
behind my eyes...!
I see nothing
deserts exhale silent sacred sands…
Hearts pulse with unheard drums
an archway to oblivion
weathered eons I haven't lived.
I drift towards a courtyard,
run riot in green eternally…
Where faces blur like old cars
my mind whispers, doom from afar
on winds that don't remember me.
Trace the contours of my lost continents
in this cartography of bone and shadow.
Forgotten by the wraiths of the moon…
that echo within my chambered heart.
A tarnished key lies heavy in my mind,
unlocking doors behind infinite walls… sublime!
Copyright ©
Poet Tellaferro
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