Frigid converstaions

Here it is told that it only rains cold, stark and black are the clouds

Memory's warm ray set with the day, now lay shadows of gallows as night's shrouds

Dark is the night, stark is the plight, hope condemned to a hangman's fate

Cut out its tongue, having bled out its lung, no breath remains for debate

Reviews

[MCS]

Some conversations are best not entered into because it's like crying out into the wind not being heard, and it leaves one exhausted. This one required one’s full attention, my friend.

[Soren]

Thank you so much for the read and understanding comment it is always appreciated.

[Chris Shaw]

When conversations are so cold, when they reach that level are they worth wasting more words on? And yet without any effort at all, nothing will be resolved. I travelled with this one Soren to much wider issues which have huge consequences. A poem which makes you think. All good wishes.

Chris

[Soren]

Thanks Chris for the read and even more for the deep thought, it is most appreciated and valued.