I was writing this with the "slow march at the edge of reason" playing in the background...

please excuse any poor spelling or sanity....


Wandering



I sat upon a hill at night
my eyes fixed on a cold and distant light
a pale moon shining
ever brighter burns the fire of the past
in flames around sail and mast
of this ship of fools now sinking
the poisonous Fate I will be drinking
on this cold night, stars all blinking
winds all howling, in darkest symphony
the hard road whispering, in deepest sympathy

walk on

move on







Poetry by Michael Dyst
Read 760 times
Written on 2008-09-13 at 14:50

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