Poetry

An Oldie I've dug out from 1974....


The End...


The voice of hate
I've heard of late
Has sunk me down in terror
A crippled ship
I drift the depths
Of navigators error


Once bathed in light
I'm now undone
Left struggling in the dark


My memory turns
To days far gone
When the voice was of a lark


So tortured life
Now ends in strife
I gasp in vain for breath


Just left alone
Froze to the bone
I'm shaking myself to death.
 

©Rhumour 1974