The Desolate City
written by: Shannon Winestone
for the children of Gaza
My spirit drifts into a desolate city
That is broken, having no walls.
No children play in its streets.
There is no one left to pity
And nothing more to feel.
The agora’s immersed in gloom,
The homes draped in solitude.
Dust and cobwebs adorn their rooms
That no more resound with laughter’s peals
Or the sweet notes of a song.
Alas, all joy is gone!
It has sunk into an abyss of sorrow
And into it my soul has fallen.
Shannon Winestone is a poet and the founding editor of The New Stylus. She admires poetry that is well-crafted, transcendent, and full of emotive power. Her work has appeared in The Raven Review, The HyperTexts, Ephemeral Elegies, Merion West, Literary Yard, and The Stray Branch.
Latest posts by Shannon Winestone (see all)
- The Desolate City - May 27, 2025
- The Lecher’s Lament - February 17, 2025
