Death of the Collective Soul

Photo: CA Hawthorne

Photo: CA Hawthorne

A casket upon the ground.
No one around to make a sound.
An abandoned coffin on the hill.
The hill is quiet, all is still.

No lingering sobs or mournful cries
No shouted protests where no one hides.
The sun above knows no early, knows no late,
nor does it care about why we hate.

An abandoned casket so described,
where there’s no more YOU, no more I.
Upon its lid no one sees,
a single word: Humanity.

©January 2016, June 2020 Christina Anne Hawthorne


About Christina Anne Hawthorne

Alive and well in the Rocky Mountains. I'm a fantasy writer who also dabbles in poetry, short stories, and map making. My Ontyre tales are an alternative fantasy experience, the stories rich in mystery, adventure, and romance. Alternative fantasy? Not quite steampunk. Not quite gothic. In truth, the real magic is in those who discover what's within.
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