Ghosts of perdition

conscious poem

 

“…Legions of blinfolded slaves,
March en route to oblivion,
For an elusive freedom they crave,
In pain dwell these ghosts of perdition,
Above the Ocean sitting and waiting on the fence,
The everchanging waves they now behold,
To see their epiphany was only at arm’s length,

And to let their grudges transmute into Gold!…”

Michael McGregor

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