This Week's Poem: December 2025, Week 2

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And speaking of getting back on the horse, I'm returning to posting work samples from different projects. This is one of last week's poems - an experimental form with an iambic pentameter base.

 

 

 

 

We Remain

  

We are the lost

The untransitioned

The ones they left behind

 

We are those who lived

When all else died

 

Or were transformed

Removed from human

Made monsters of the mind

 

We are those who made it through

We wish to turn back time

 

To turn back time

To what things once were

An imperfected norm

 

Not safe but still a sanctuary

Compared to where we now have gone

 

In this plague world

Where the dead walk

Still alive and not at rest

 

We strive to send them back to sleep

And rebuild what they have left.

 

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