Best Poem of L'Angley S Delmonte

For Time
Glory happens
In the places
That are reserved for
Sitting in the grimy corner
Three lines into one
Wayward
Shaking hands the fury of the storm
Cupped around
The parted end of humanity
Fire, try feebly to touch
Burn my fears
Black shadow of green colour
Dances across
Sulks, if . . .
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If The Dead Rise Again
AA T
On the barren land
Lies the barren form
Smooth and endless
Again
It almost is but isn't.

With silent noise
Like a subtle cut through deep water
With feeble sunlight
Filtering through
I descend

Talons touching nothingness
Beside this beauty
That is . . .
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