Lost in shadows,
The memory of a desire,
Grief twists reality,
For want of anything better to do.
Watchers in the eve
Calling for mirrors,
The smoke creeps in
And covers the sorrows &
The chill of yesterday
Moves thru the trees,
Deforming the branches
Discoloring the leaves.
The sky catches fire
In hope of purging,
The rising serpent
That threatens to devour.
The wind carried hope
Unto your beacon,
There is rhyme
But seldom a reason.
Moon shadows blanket
And obscure understanding,
The hunters in the snow
Will find their way home.
© April 12, 2011 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic
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