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»Street Seance«

by Brendon Tawanda Takarinda, February 20, 2017

The gun shot sound
echoes through out the
whole street. 2 am
massacres are a common
site, the body slowly falling
on the tarred road.

A black grave temporarily placed
for the dead life. Last deep
breathes as the soul takes flight,
the restless soul roams the street
seeking for assistance to get to the
other side.

Do you hear the lonely
cry of the dead soul.

Written: February 2017
Tags: Life Sad

The © Copyright to this poem is owned by the author.
Published by writerslounge.net on February 20, 2017 under courtesy of the author.


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