Cáscara Vacía (Empty Shell) by Ken Allan Dronsfield

Harsh or endearing reason
sidestepping seasonal gaiety
to hide within the poison oak
whilst wishing to journey home.
Simpler and gentler times do
covet those very sweet rhymes
whisper lullabies to deaf ears
we take a crimson train there.
I know sometimes evil lurks
on the rim of a soft rose petal
sharp barbs impale the mind
leaving cold hands bleeding.
Bleach blue sky in cessation
listing the ways to redemption
always the hideous squeezing,
ripping, increasing the hunger.
My skull is now an empty shell
scraped clean of cradled dreams
black, white or nihilistic fantasy
icy nightmares cascade tomorrow.

Ken Allan Dronsfield is a published poet from Oklahoma. He loves thunderstorms! His published work can be found in reviews, journals, magazines and anthologies throughout the web and in print venues. His poetry has been nominated for two Pushcart Prize Awards and the Best of the Net for 2016.

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