At midnight
Good night weary wisdom's fading.
Tonight no one plays elusive
to the sallow smile of stars
where no shadows come to play.
Death has no further say
as day falls into broken night
and haunting rites of dim art
amplify all vindictive voices
far behind in burning blame
filling your lament with salt.
Time is cruel at midnight's falling.
All shanty shards look for a sea to sleep
regretting waves of final blue
where reason continually repeats itself.
Poetry by Bob
Read 1321 times
Written on 2006-01-24 at 09:01
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