Lorenz

The night of the Orionids

The morrow lingers just as long 

as a sigh left unspent .

Fleeting whim that melts  

into the gossip of stardust dolls

raised  amid the turmoil of early

  childhood  solar  storms ...

Death robed in a bride\'s pale veil ,

smiles within the glowing memory 

of imaginary seasons ,

woven from the dissonant  strings 

devoted to the spell of our illusions,

bound to the incantations of our waking dream .

Architectural scriptures etched 

in the breath of a few lunar desires 

playing with our tangled  hours ...

 Skewed reverie of a voyage beyond  

all the ends of genesis ...

  Creature born of the cold beauty 

of a meteor\'s unraveling rain ...

 A cascad of silver ghosts ,silent echoes,

stitching the night\'s pallid filaments-

perhaps souls drifting toward  paradise ,

and dawn\'s unbounded fields ,

long lost realm of the chaste Artemis 

in the witching melody of the Orionids...