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.
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Author:
MaybeOneDay (
Offline) - Published: September 1st, 2022 15:49
- Category: Sad
- Views: 24
Offline)
Comments1
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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