I’m practicing my poetry. What are your thoughts? All lines share the same number of syllables. Because of the formatting, it is best to read this post on tablet or desktop. Mobile is experiencing an issue.
Six feet under sixteen lilies, he considers his eternity.
Eternity’s ears, hears no more lamentations from his forgotten.
Forgotten even by sixteen green stems, but Time—the grave gardener.
The grave gardener mows not, plows not, and sows not—he only watches.
Watches the earth bury its one and only truth: all sleep among worms.
Worms tunnel the clay and mud and brains and veins of his forgotten pains.
Pains the gardener files away, to be read on heaven’s judgement day.
Judgement day, asterisk of eternity, hour saved to open graves.
Graves will split untilled soil—he’ll steal a lily—and escape Satan’s toil.