Friday, July 20, 2018

Rose Neath

Rose neath the setting Sun
Festered in waters deep
Shallow lifts fettered moon
Hide the crimson season
Sacred are those who weep
Felled sheep and high mountains
Whispered crazy who seek
Their voice is unspoken
Kissed lips in molten ice
Gentle those words unsaid
Spare sanity of choice
Choose her. Let her be dead
In this earth molten ground
Lay her soul never found
Crept with winds higher ground
Settled hope girl unloved

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