Of Elders and Ancients

The refuge doesn’t exist –

in its stead –

are landscapes and crumbled paths.

 

Silence moves on the flank –

the trumpet sounds –

as death envelopes

the mourners

with the tacit reminder

that this place –

ain’t our home.

 

Tomes of sorrow

and tears that drown –

when the

Elders join the Ancients.

wpid-wpid-img_201633790060813.jpeg

Copyright © 2019 ShunPwrites.com All Rights Reserved

Let's get your 2 cents worth ...

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

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

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

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google 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 )

Cancel

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

About Shun P. Writes

Author, Genealogist, Writer, Poet, possessor of 2 cents, blogger and eternal student of life, who harbors a firm belief in his Grandmother's mantra that: "People need to get off of their rump and do something". All while keeping in mind that a cheering section will often get in the way.