Never call the raging fury of the night
by the windy euphemism
cessation dies to seed.
When darkness enfolds
all that you once did treasure
and flawlessly follow into the coming
it is but the desperation of a spark
that haunts your expectation.
Willow wishes at the banks
of wishful thinking
keep your vows intact.
The bending of searing love
shifts from one soothing stone
to another vantage point
far beyond the scope
of no return.
Fri vers av andrasidan
Publicerad 2009-07-08 00:04
Fredrik Hansen
Nice poem, very deep and keeping a perfect balance between clear and ambiguent story. I was really moved by it. Funny I have a poem with a similar name, namely Shepherd in the Night (originally Shepherd of the Night). Thanks/Fredrik
2009-07-31