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MUSED
BellaOnline Literary Review
Eagle Landing by Albert Rollins

Poetry


Adam´s Rib

Firefly

Return Adam´s rib
if this is what it means
to be alive
am I alive?
Feeling all this decay
wasting layers of me
Sobering cold
it graces my mind.
Settling in for a long winter
of empty space.
Embers to ashes
endless toils.
Quicksand for sunlight
immortalizing dark´s brand.
Calloused and frozen
here in this memory
of ribbons and pearls.
Despondent solutions
against conciliate reason.

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