Photo by Jonathan Borba on

Scent of guilt permeates the air

Laced with a spent sweat perfume

Integrity felt somehow compromised

And echoing words, reverberate hallow

Mid-day, yet to me it felt shadowed

Much like a late wintery afternoon

I can recall the eruptions on my skin

As growing chilly winds gathered     

They were only words, but unbearable

Not only to hear, and feel, but fathom     

Everything has turned upside down

I became clueless about any position     

We always defied the odds, you, and I

I never believed I’d live… to see you die


Poet of the Light © 2022


2 thoughts on “Deterministic

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