An Ode To
I’ve an empty vessel
But I hold onto my pains
Like the last vestiges of winter
What melts within me
That I can no longer preserve
Siphons to my clay chamber
Then leaks out.
A forgotten crack found
And the ice no longer seals
As the hinterland thaws,
In a frost quake.
My soul tremors from the thaw and not the ice.
The liquid mixes with clay
Making the vessel new again
Only to turn it sanguine
And seeping.
Will this feeling linger
Or will I forever pour out
And discover new flaws,
In my cool clay
Free of sensation,
Wherever I lay,
My head weeping.
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I smell talent, good chapter, if you plan to write more, or update, please let me know. Thank you