Slumbering dreams slid across
groves and brooks past,
smithereens of the self
stumbled over graves of words
that lay decaying, stinking.
Amidst the circling vultures,
they stole the onward way,
brooding thoughts following
the wandering wayfarer,
and his forlorn, empty shadow.
groves and brooks past,
smithereens of the self
stumbled over graves of words
that lay decaying, stinking.
Amidst the circling vultures,
they stole the onward way,
brooding thoughts following
the wandering wayfarer,
and his forlorn, empty shadow.
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