Thy crows loiter on mornings
fever, blossom brightening to
thee. But when petals awaken,
onyx lullabies tear each asunder.
Woeful of the beauty of years,
thy fallen moments collect
like tattered curtains of life.
Crows sing sirens of despair,
joyful of the passing beauty..
And still they look upon thee,
no longer petals of years stand.
they wait till your stem of life wilts.
With but a moment of silence when all
has fallen, they bow, wings dispersing life.
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 4:51 PM UTC
Thy crows loiter on mornings
fever, blossom brightening to
thee. But when petals awaken,
onyx lullabies tear each asunder.
Woeful of the beauty of years,
thy fallen moments collect
like tattered curtains of life.
Crows sing sirens of despair,
joyful of the passing beauty..
And still they look upon thee,
no longer petals of years stand.
they wait till your stem of life wilts.
With but a moment of silence when all
has fallen, they bow, wings dispersing life.
