Raven, black
Ripping on the hollow wind
Portent’s fear blows, pale white
Whimpering, cold.
Shadows, dark
Before the turbulent chaos dawns
Measured metronome, ticks
Draining, long.
Careless touch
Flanks, unwittingly exposed
To flee before the storm
Bones, aching.
A dark poem. Captures the spirit of the times. Although, doesn't it always seem dark from some perspectives? Well done!
Some days are darker than others. 🤗
I like the lines:
I also see what you're doing with commas, nice.
🙃🤗😊