As ages pass
So cages last
This brazen, crass
Abrasion cast
In phases
But alas
There’s not a clasp

As wonders wind
To sunder minds
Well under binds
To plunder finds
In blunders
Always mine
And so I gasp

As hours fade
The dour shade
Of power made
Devours aid
A coward
In a grave
Nothing to grasp


About A. P. Christopher

I'm a cynic, a nihilist, and a pessimist. I'm a hermit filling the interior walls of my empty cavern with the words and pictures of a mind adrift in disparity. I also like lifting weights.
This entry was posted in Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to Grasp

  1. “A coward in a grave, nothing to grasp”. such strong words.Loved this one.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Take a bow, this was fantastic! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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