Keri Stewart

Hast I lost my eyes, trapped in ceaseless times

Where bleak clouds soar the skies and block my mind?

From these clouds does rain fall; acidic crimes

Destroy the land where wand’ring hearts walk blind.

The grass is burned. Oh, fire’s rage dries the path.

The stones do hide; no pebbles near as guides.

Unable to succeed. What bitter wraths

Holds hostage like such callous being’s pride.

My futile heart is not essential; it

Collects dust like forgotten toys so old. 

Take it from me and store it in a pit.

Yes, ample deep where bones do chat with mold.

In time this organ shall be free to roam.

This stubborn life (a Phoenix) will go home.