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November 18, 2024
"Mes de los Muertos"

All Is Lost

By Ann Christine Tabaka

All is Lost

White washed reality floats
upon a stagnate pond of deceit.

Vile vespers snake out from
wanton decay. Layer upon layer

of unrelenting lies. Hands placed
solemnly on desperation fight back,

as time flees. Thoughts in circles,
minds of doubt, pushing outward

against a wall of truth. Plagued
with sins of ego, they are blinded

by their pride. The truth has no
meaning among the unholy hordes.

Redemption out of reach, all is lost.






Article © Ann Christine Tabaka. All rights reserved.
Published on 2019-05-13
Image(s) are public domain.
1 Reader Comments
Laljee Verma
05/17/2019
11:33:23 AM
Wonderful poem, full of emotion.
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