Lull Like Before

 

tulips cannot be roses not roses just any flower

cold wind chills bone no bone that not chills

impervious to sound sight and smell

we march so blind no march so ever fade

into walls thick thicker than yet before

who is to blame? who is to blame?

both friends and foes have never been so bore

such that they wore stupors glistening of gold

of breezy interludes breaking intent back bare

resign we must to luck not luck to fail

 

Published in Issue 7, Summer 2013, Vayavya