Found Poem
11
The solitude of my abyss
Riddled as it never was this way.
Urging, violent fires snarl and bark
Bite in like pure winter.
Fearful of famous drops of red
Slave to the fate of infinitesimalness.
Without a face I am summoned
To a faint sepulchre.
Relieved when unfastened
Idly as I writhe back in.
Deciphering the riddled truth
I am the solitude of my abyss.