Fin: #Inktober Day 31

A frail ghost yawns 

in the dusty shade of a shadow 

as a curtain of cub webs is drawn.

Armies of light

slow match to the hallow ticks 

of ever dying time 

ferrying the gift of life

to a decaying vessel.

Life wrestles death

as the day wrestles the night

at sunrise,

birthing a swirl of gold dust 

that put a smile in the sky. 

Thank you so much for following the series. I put the last few prompts together to produce this piece. As I said in the beginning, all the poems were produced as first drafts, written at once with no editing. I’ll take them down soon. – Hakeem Adam. 


Deep: #Inktober Day 20

A butchered self 

scampers from the light 

clings to the blind fold 

that is the dark 

and wonders the littered path 

in search of fragments of the heart 

to stich together with hope 

so it can bleed again 
A numb body 

trapped with memories 

of a time when hair stood at parade 

to announce the invasion 

of love.