Monday, 29 October 2007

A Tie-Die Chorus for Angels

‘Now’s a bad a time as any’

bound for checkmate

the envelope is sealed

monochrome eyes

unearth a pencil map

lay out on a midnight divan

velvet age, deception of self

the wind wants to carry you

roses in arms, silence for eyes

green mourns for you

in the coming of the fates

joy can’t touch this moon

it’s a melodious acceptance

no fear for the all too near

a weight in the wings

soul folded


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