Prophets without a cause

23/100

       100 poems/52 weeks challenge’ 2018

Pythia - The Oracle of Delphi
I am a blind man
with mad visions of things gone by,
the contours of memories
which is a body
-not your flesh-
but a man made out of a river;
on a very dark night
when the snow falls
and the candles flicker
in a boarding room
full of merchants counting money,
happy of the words they see on their screens;
my eyes are without pupils
and today I prophesy the past,
collapse the future,
and exist ever so negligent
in memory.

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