Blossomed darkness unfolding
breeding death like gold wings
melting
burning hours like candles
in abandon
this is not a note left waiting-
that paper's turned black and crumbled
commitment flushed and taken
five months I wrote upon it
carved into that fallen tree
till winter's arson took
warmth, breath, and weakness
howling desire to the wind
a broken carriage flying
still strong enough to carry
sound,
or silence maybe
whichever rings loudest
bells of steel and stone
charred remains
my naked bones
my surviving frame
serf to stagnant violence
left to regrow a body
that can walk the long road home