It was no better by nightfall.
This movement was subtle -
The land of the living
Into the land of the dead -
And the air was the still
Calmness of you.
My desperation shook me.
My fear said,
"Ride south into the woods".
You said we had our purpose.
You said we would fight
And be free men.
Bent low over earth and memory,
I sang the soft poems
And songs of our childhood -
Beauty isn't the treachery
You imagined it would be.
But you couldn't hear,
And I bowed my head.
The sun had risen above.
- Author: CindyB ( Offline)
- Published: June 17th, 2019 00:04
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 41
Comments1
What an incredible tapestry of mystery you have embroidered into the night time's ride of fantasy.
Exquisite. I would love to read more like this, perhaps as a part of an ongoing theme or story.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.