The black birds
screamed in my flesh
and took all the words
into the funeral
suit of twilight.
I know I'll find somewhere,
at the end of the night-
one star smiling
at a dead poet.
The illusion came out
of the mirror-
wet my words,
turned them into air,
and blew them far
into the north wind;
which will take them
to the last refuge
of the dying sun.
Death smiles
at my last reflection
of a dream-
on the edge of a nightmare.
Midnight Mirror Of Loneliness
Marija Ilic
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 07/14/2020
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Poem topics: death, dream, funeral, mirror, night, star, sun, wind, reflection, edge, nightmare, black, poet, illusion, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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