Dead ~ A sonnet

a single breath of irony hangs tight
and clings to stagnant darkness all around,
one chord of dissonance is set alight
then hushed emaciated on the ground.
Skeletal fingers claw the violin
a constant smile upon the players face-
who plucks the fickle strings without chagrin
concerto played in death’s enticed embrace.

un-counted shadows form shape, ruminate,
emotions tangible although unseen,
awaiting judgement or some silent fate
to cruxify those ghosts behind the screen.

Ubiquotous the dance of dying souls
macabre shifting to the musics tolls.

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5 responses to “Dead ~ A sonnet

  1. “a single breath of irony hangs tight”

    wow! you are the only writer i’ve seen who can evoke so many images and emotions while sustaining a form like a sonnet, Shân. i am truly in awe of your amazing talent. ♥

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