Mortis

Mortis

Angels dance through the tombs

of darkness like crushed velvet

while the widows conceal their grief

under billowing veils of jet

the flowers have all lost their hue

and their scent has turned rancid

echoes like memories fade

and the dead are left to be laid

amongst the cobwebs and neglect

Finery and jewelry succumb to time

and flesh once tender becomes brittle

lips once like satin and warm with lust

peel back to reveal an eternal smirk

at a secret joke only those beyond mortality’s threshold

could ever  know

Names and fame become fuzzy recollection

until all is unknown like the cities swallowed by the dunes

once lush burial chambers and adorned dead

are left for mystery

in the sooty shadows the corpses lay

wondering what has become of their golden days.

Originally Published in Ragged Edge Publishing 2006

Copyright 2006 Kevin Hurtack

 

 

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