Poetry

Don’t deluge me in sorrows of a day past, an existence like torn ribbons and blood-splattered walls. When I endured poised in eyes like lightless windows, and endless drawn unseen nights. 

Don’t deluge me in sorrows of a day past, those times when breathing was optional and vacant. I shall not yield.

I refuse death under canopied trees.

copyright2020@Kalesjha h. wolf