Life and death come together. From ashes we rise, to the dust we go.
YeahWrite.Me has a new post on the trinita. Another poem style I have never heard of or done. I decided to use one of the word groups provided.
From the first breath silent
and gasping, a promise
made an echo drop.
A tick-tocking time’s drop.
The minute moments ever moving silent
to years pressing promise.
Forever running from the promise
with a sprint, a dodge, then the beats drop
and the heart trembles silent.
Death returns silent — to collect life’s promise — with a breath’s last drop.