The Forest Calls

THE FOREST CALLS The pink clouds surround the setting sun The black earth won't give up her secrets When all things are said and done She holds her memory the most infrequent Paltry mists of past liaisons Stormy strife from deep within Remembrance of aged relations Decadent mirth no more lies therein What far off calls do sing The pabulum so requisite To this epiphany I do cling Twilight hours of  crimson exquisite Last words spoken of lovers one Engulfing the forest calls of all done.