Wordle #241

241

The ground gives way to stars,
to a hearth of fallow contingencies.
The spark has gone from my eyes,
the amethyst from underneath
my ancient tongue.
Defiance serves only to instill decay.

My beneficent corpse cradles oblivion
descent is not possible, I am alone.
Who would hear me fall?
My story starts with intoxication
and ends with games of chance.
Mine is a spirit that illumines in darkness.

lots of anxiety could barely get this out

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8 responses to “Wordle #241

  1. Wonderfully written. Wow, I could feel the intensity in your words, and some of that anxiety you spoke about. I enjoyed the whole piece, but, the last two lines…”Mine is a spirit that illumines in darkness” paints a very vivid picture.

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