My descentA Poem by cricket
many whispers
bound to one outstretched hand, A beckoning finger, “come down lower and listen-” crackling, snapping distant fireflies unreachable and descending “listen and hear what cannot be heard above.” below a mass burial, burning scorched bodies stacked calling upwards © 2022 cricketAuthor's Note
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Added on June 13, 2022 Last Updated on June 13, 2022 |

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