Ornamental Mesh

A serpentine oak shades the aspirations of the skittish marauder
Pensive and thirsting for the saccharine spoils of death    
Forenoon and evenfall
upon valley and view
he raked the vale for provision  
From lush to lull
 the desert door was all too provocative  
He was driven in by the itch  
Insofar, he has been deceived
by the fruitless design
of his newfound elements  
   
O’ wandering raven, why now do you delay?  
   
Nestled amidst the sinuous curves of the oak
he is fated to wed this vacuous land
where even the residuals have withered  
Simmering in unvarying famish
he is delicate  
“Be still,” he whispers.
“The promise of excess never abandons.”  
Wayfaring between utopia and slumber
Dust heavies his patience  
   
A sudden shift in the yon curdles the raven’s stillness  
Stimulated,
the whiles adhere,
confecting an essence of cryptic lust
towards the unwary soul
lumbering across the horizon  
Skullduggery allures the impertinent player  
   
Upon a starless and milky milieu, the raven quivers  
   
A man  
An enfeebled vagabond
wavering
between sorrow and submit,
gracelessly traipses the weathered expanse
where stained glass mirages offer riveting rumination; visions to which resolve can never be grasped    
Shivery and hopeless,
he treads narrowly to where the waters harden
into a clutter of fissured earth  
Jaded and measureless  
Reminiscent of his patchwork of thoughts
mired in abject delirium  
A tainted intuition binds his spirit in complacency    
   
Parched and sullied, he wilts  
Offering but a wisp of verve
upon the mantle of ponderous waste  
One last breath  
He is at one with the pristine fetters of the freshly softened  
   
In the gloaming,
the marauder takes flight under the crimson veil  
Undulating amidst God’s infertile parlor    
The feathered gypsy descends to jest the wizened  
The redolence of dissolve is seductive  
   
Dancing to the symphony of anguish,
his unchallenged advance is silken
and swift  
   
A glint of voracity enlivens the tempters intrigue  
Slaver flows as the raven feeds off the envy of task  
Gorging on ornamental mesh;
The flesh is gritty and unduly ripened  
Staining red, the dry riverbed  
The rapture is ostensibly lurid  
   
Reduced to the mourned, scattered anguish
befouled beneath a raven’s claw  
The vagabond has evanesced    
In the morrow, the raven sighs  
   
Time sprawls coherently in wait