contemplativeAs The Murk
Look to the shadow on the wall
only seen by my eyes
this is the veil that returns
asking more than I’ll supply
it’s the screen that obscures
heinous monsters on the wing
circling high, out of sight
screeching calls that echo far
then the fodder of the mind
reverberates against the ash
tracks pressed in frozen char
coldest scraps that are left
remnants born under foot
vestige piled on grave dirt
crushed before the hope alights
to meet its foe in a last fight
now unable to comply
shadows flitting on the walls
frozen solid to the spot
as the murk consumes the light.
© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171228.
