A scene

Isaac Marley Morgan

A scene

I hear the sirens

In dark fields
they plough

I see nothing but
a fantasy
dyed in gold

They say
you’re special
but it’s always
the same

Show me
the roaring
inside you
the rumbling
high above

You speak
so loudly
bound unto
your name

Chapped
thirsty lips

When there
is nothing left

One
more
time


Photo: © Isaac Marley Morgan

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