Before the still of night
This echo
Of day as accelerant,
Bonfire without vanity
Fall is falling soft,
Summer still clawing back
And steps seem to pace with shadows –
Past each house
You were my last hope
Tossed into tendrils of smoke
A rose given,
Gripped by stalk of thorns
Pulled quickly back…
Stigmata of the abandoned
No one is to blame
When blue moon fades
Behind cloud of tears,
My veiled doubt
Answers to lies,
Lies to question
The gravity of despair shouldered
This weight unbearable
Colored leaves
That hide my dreams.