These halls seem somewhat hollow
A certain sense of sorrow
Now graces ancient stone.
Replacing familiar faces
With defaced family paintings
And cold ancestral bones.
Thrones thrown upon a pyre.
Fate becomes the folly
Tomorrow the unknown,
The brows of time are furrowed
Past spent, lost, or borrowed
Flowers forever bloom alone.
Rats, the last lords of ruin
Rule cruel shadows from the walls.
Twilight sighs at daylight's rise
All seems dark till darkness falls.

When a black sheet has been
thrown over the moon
and a million lazy stars
have fallen from view
I hear the wind has
grown tired of traveling
I hear the sound of mandolins
crying in the mountains
I hear the rattle of
gypsy wheels
I hear the heavy hearts
of horses upon the
restless roads of
broken poetry ...
Clay.M

Beneath the weight of infinite skies,

her eyes, two wells of drowning sighs.

A tear, like a wounded star, descends,

tracing the map where sorrow bends,

and love, unspoken, forever ends.

The power went off
The street was dark and quiet
One single star shines.

The stars
The dark
The silence
The empty streets
The night

While I dance in the cold
Music taking me over
All of them
In their wonder
Are on my side

Beneath my ribs, a songbird sleeps,

Whispering truths no one dares to keep.

I thread my wounds through silken lies,

Broken glass beneath soft lullabies.

He moves like shadow, so close, so far,

Reaching for a light that isn’t where we are.

I hush my heart – let it break, let it bleed, unseen.