Pelting Stones

The walls, are thin,
Narrow corridors;
And a fragile night stand,
Monsters lurk within the shade –
The night a dangerous place,
A fort instils the space between real and absentee,
Vague; the partition, hides the decay,
Unfathomable, a fortress on the sand,
Licking the waves, as they land,
Pelting stones, against the bone,
Sinking –
The fable deteriorating –
Washing up, the barrier falls,
Crumbles and beats,
Submits to the sea.


26 thoughts on “Pelting Stones

  1. This is gorgeous writing. We have a saying here in Newfoundland: what we build with our hands must come tumbling down. I think it’s the same for walls and fortresses we construct in the mind as well.

    Liked by 1 person

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