... Ideal's the emptiness of stone temples;
Invited souls - two dancers times enfold;
Invoked's the past, redrawn in vain circles
the years sustain recalls of feelings' mold.
Recited scripts - the weather's voice is cold,
Extols them to an absent audience,
The shrines remember them on timeless role,
Adventive cadence, adventive cadence.
Consorted with the broken glass, they bleed
their lives ascended into rains of red
their thoughts became obstacles to impede
somehow the birds forgot to sing and fled.
The runnel ghosts of emptiness out-traced
existences' odd trails and righteous died
where acquaintances devoid embraced
- their solitude; and in the woods winds cried.
Air fingers feel their face, feverish strings;
and dithered silence shines on splendid glow,
lone glances coil on tungsten burning rings,
abstinent sorrow abstinent sorrow.
© 02-24-2013, G. V., All Rights Reserved
(Surreal - Elegy)