The Hollow

Written 2011. Modified 2012.

I dreamt somewhere upon a cliff,

looking outward to the seas to see,

oceans full, full to the brim,

devoid of water they were.

They foamed with blood,

a broth of crimson,

endlessly did the tide return,

the waves naught but tears.

The soldiers fought,

lived loved and died;

and though the wars had ended,

the truths they held were lies

I dreamt somewhere upon a cliff,

looking outward to the seas to see,

devoid of water the blood came home,

tears raining,

perpetually raining from the sky.

Author's Note

This came to me upon reading The Hollow Men by T.S. Eliot.