Saturday, June 23, 2012

Perpetual Shade

T'was worse than Smoke that rises from the flame,
All muffled by it you would choke from it's
Hand; such a thing at least is somewhat tame
In comparison to this. Keep your wits!
For out of the Mist it sends, wreathed in light
From a parallel world, a memory
Of what became you as beauteous sight;
Though long ago such a thing was gone. Be
Then cautious to approach in this dense fog
The creature that casts his shadow upon
The many elements that do stir from
This bog, this quagmire, this infested dawn
That never finds relief from night's shade, drum
Of the day by which man becomes ensnared
In the happenstance of time; be prepared!

                 Perpetual Shade, (c) Luke Bennette, June 2012

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