deepundergroundpoetry.com
Avaritia
I am a moonlighter of contemplation
Mechanics at work leave me to my fingertips
Clamber the cobbled stairs, scars of my own
Kiss the stony stories at the feet of fleeting dreams
Call me towards sleep, writhing in Luna’s sheets
Abandon true purpose, reaching to wring it between my eyes
A scarlet note swimming in the alabaster air
Inches within range, leagues tangled in the mind
Wayward in the mythic mists of credence
Have at it, limb, weak and unfeeling
For the night is a harbinger of morn
And mourn should I have it none
But that which stokes the dying embers
The heaviness and heavenliness of shame
And soon, I pass the burden like a leaden torch
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