3/3 Clearly a slow and quiet night somewhere...
An ageless plant of thorny sides
Bows down before the window.
Posters still upon the wall
And music plays in mortal whim
Whispers through the sorrow
Ticking for its own redress
A clock reminds the silence
Listen to my death call.
Mumblings in the distance
A voice conveys its message
Witness its undressing?
Creaks in lifeless union
It's old and past its best
We grok in timeless sympathy
Vaguely through the nite-light
Perceive a growing movement
Feared in its own promise.
© 2013 S Evans All Rights Reserved
No comments:
Post a Comment