The Wound of Everything
by Nick Horton
We became the wound of everything, Scattered & unwept, mute & moveless, Our stillness in shapes burnt upon the ground, As our widow, the world, wept & wailed. A breathless gale carried our silence Through fog & filth, in serpentine rounds, Clutching the shore with it's wrathful tail, As doom's heavy shadow came rushing down. Kissed by the face of darkness, we fell, Kept unused, unburied, & unbereaved. Eyes, wasted by their beauty, left us blind, Wrecked by time, lost behind a sleepless breeze. Dissolved in a winter's dream, we fell, Dragged through all of the varieties of hell.
– Widow, the world, wept & wailed…. Shakespeare’s sonnet 9 has the lines, “The world will wail thee like a makeless wife;/The world will be thy widow and still weep.”
– Wrecked… Dissolved in a winter’s dream… Shelley’s is “Wrecked in a dissolving dream.”