Wallowing
My grief has no panacea, my sorrow has no bounds
Without a moment's notice, my somber heart pounds
Into the deep furrows of solitude grave
Where my lonely mind dwells for my heart is deprave
Of other hearts; even mine God's heart is deaf
To my wallowin sadness, mine heart that wails
In the sullen air of Dante's hellish breathe
In the whirlpool of pitiless souls, my love fails
And meets its maker, the sinister called death
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Added by Poetry Lover
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