Hollowed murmurs crawl
From shaken wells you've sprouted
From; ventured farther than most
who've pined for gold noons.
They call, reverent,
To the passion-oranges n'
decaying yellows,
to wrap you from winters foul grip.
But fail. And lay frozen in powdery
sweet dusk.
Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 10:27 AM UTC
Hollowed murmurs crawl
From shaken wells you've sprouted
From; ventured farther than most
who've pined for gold noons.
They call, reverent,
To the passion-oranges n'
decaying yellows,
to wrap you from winters foul grip.
But fail. And lay frozen in powdery
sweet dusk.
