A fantastical, cold corner of my mind.
When the heavens are opened
And douse your sorrowful pyre
I will keep your powdered bones
In a locket at my breast
In your ashes
I will paint your portrait
Toss them about for the winds to play with
Like Odysseus' raft
I will dance between the pine trees
In fields of icy dusk roses
With the ocean's roar in my ears
And a night-owl at my shoulder.
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Poetry, Shorts & Prattle (On Hold)
PoetryA collection of random poems, short stories, etc., born from those little random bursts of inspiration. All Rights Reserved.
