Descent down the Pit
©10-27-2022, Olan L. Smith
No way out, no direction, no compass,
All is calamity, how can one find a way
Up, when up doesn't exist, everything
Vanishes in the tragedy of Netherworlds'
Digestion, and the vomit of what was,
Not even a dog will turn back to this
Dejection of "Is" boiling over, and obscurity
Spews truth in worthless confusion.
What's removed, renamed, will never be again,
This world we know is turned into a decay we
Don't recognize as anything we ever knew.
Who fires the kiln from within, a buffoon?
YOU ARE READING
Poems from the Quill, by Olan L. Smith
Poetry"Poems from the Quill" is where I place current works that don't fall into other collections. It is here you will find obscure poems that range from constraint to free-verse. I began this collection as a contest entry, years ago, for what was then t...
