Lance Sheridan

From the dour sea of stillness,
She steps onto the white sand grieving,
Her mind the color of rust;
The sound of a sunken bell clangs
Cold and final, water runs by her feet,

But by such abuses-
She feels the dying, the bones of fingers
Scaring her flesh
Twisting like corkscrews, pulling her
Into God’s city.

Relish death, child; doused by the holy sea
She wades without wetting her soul,
The waves are flat and full of dark,
Into a blackness, her pale body;
The drowned are waiting, expressionless sirens.

Copyright © 02/28/2019 lance sheridan®


View original post

2 thoughts on “Retribution

Leave a Reply

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

You are commenting using your 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 )

Connecting to %s

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