How might I mourn the end of this?
Funerals are required and tears and pain
and broken stars, as stories told,
are procedures of written time.
But dare I crack a smile, at this blackened pyre
it might break the hollow universe
that men before me have created.
But smile I did, and with it no end became
just light between two distant stars
who wrote in waves of gravity arms
who once were born in crucible hands.
And though this space expands in infinite strand
with darkness at the fringe
You sit at the center of a galaxy of ours
in a heart not willing to grieve
what will always be untouched
by the hands of time

by our guest writer bwh

Share This Tale

Share on facebook
Share on twitter
Share on email

Join Written Tales

Helping connect readers & writers!

Recommended Tales



A Feast. Autopsy notes; Twelfth January 2018. The subject, identified as Raymond Walker, by his daughter Julie Walker, a fifty-six-year-old

Read More »


Alone I betray myself and lovers who took notice of a profile photo by the wayside with a spider’s old

Read More »

Leave a Comment

Join Written Tales
Helping readers & writers connect!