deepundergroundpoetry.com

RIME BRINGER

Arms of temperance
Suffering the weight
Of consequence

Ancient boughs sway
Elegy of the leaves
Their lament falls
Decorates the epitaph

Moments from desolation
I embrace the star
Falling into my dreams

All justified, conclusive
Ephemeral guilt
A ghost that I've spilt

My head lay upon the trunk
Gazing at the luciform
Spilling through the cracks
Splattered penumbra

Sweat looses from my lids
The salt that blinds
It is the end that I missed
And the start was a wish

No longer

I weaken, Winter approach
In time, growing more cold
Than the outside