Beyond Repair
You had to leave
In a stench
Of half spoken words
And a miasma of pain
We’re all moving
On and away
Taking turns
Around another corner
Packing those boxes
Again and again
Locking these doors so firmly
Posting keys, walking away.
In a stench
Of half spoken words
And a miasma of pain
We’re all moving
On and away
Taking turns
Around another corner
Packing those boxes
Again and again
Locking these doors so firmly
Posting keys, walking away.
2 comments:
these words are full of longing.. I think most rending kind of war is not between two hatreds but between two hopes.. if you know what I mean.. and at the center of much of our trouble is a simple desire of 'home' but the right one perhaps is elusive..
The Greeks had this idea of a "miasma" of tragedy that would follow a whole family sometimes didn't they, until the Furies had tracked everyone down and killed them? Was it Oedipus and his lot, I forget?
It a good image, and one that you use well here in a slightly different context.
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