The midnight poets
Have all gone to bed
A glimmer of incense
Remains in my head

The death of the day
Still rings in my ears
And the burning salt water
Poisons my tears

A small, ashen wing
Now black from the tide
Wavers softly, and slowly
On it's serous death ride

I reach for the bottle
But it fades from my hand
An illusion of sanity
Never makes a true stand

So I hook up my dreams
To the old, broken oak
And I fall to the darkness
From which I awoke.

  • Author: MaybeOneDay (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 1st, 2022 15:49
  • Category: Sad
  • Views: 24
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Comments +


  • Bella Shepard

    Reading aloud it is lilting with a lovely rhyming pattern. While the poem evokes sadness, it also has a gentle quality that I love. Well penned dear friend.

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