Dead Spaces

By Mamaeroa Munn


Trinkets of remembrance

Eloquent in gesture

But as the day’s shadow wanes

Dwindling in perfection


Drifting from graves often frequented

Grass lured out

From ground newly amassed

Ambling to lonelier corpses


The petals descend on stone

A plot sheathed in silence

Unvisited for eons

Abandoned in time


Wilted now threadbare

Beauty now decayed

The rose wisps remain

These graves only visitors


Through times solemn passage

All tombs eclipsed by desolation

Visited only by remnants

Of gifts left on graves anew



An infantile child

Spirited away in the night

A soul seized too early

He comes for us all


A petite girl in red

Crumpled on cobbled streets

A parent’s world collapsing

He comes for us all


A noir encased hoodlum

Juvenile prank gone awry

A falsely assumed robbery

He comes for us all


A new life beginning

First cries muffled by sobs

A motherless child

He comes for us all


A suited blue collar

Drowned by stress’ cruel anguish

A heart halted beating

He comes for us all


A brittle worn being

Crippled by age

A soul departing willingly

Death comes for us all



Beauty eclipsed by fragility

Eternal sleep

Evermore veiled in mystery

Forevers adrift in misery

In death’s abode souls do creep

The final act time seizes strife

Yet those still scared of slopes so steep

Do pray to life

Their souls to keep

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