Constantly flinching
from blow after economic blow
she staggers,
blinded by this illumination:
however much you decorate it
a tomb is still just that:
a tomb,
and all her efforts to deny this truth
have only served
to create a mountain of debt,
a crushing weight of opulence,
impossible to both carry and maintain.
How,
when the spirit is so burdened
by concerns of the flesh,
can it ever learn to soar again?
* * *
1 comment:
Perhaps those arms raised are trying to push away the excess, the meaningless adornment, the heaviness of too much?
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