A Drifting Way
Under the brittle bright cold moon, ice
cold skies far above clouds fly
the metallic worms bore deeply into my side
they are made by no one but
me and only me alone
there on the street under the shadows
a loaded gun
smoking from my deed
the worms turn to burrow deep, they have won
turning burning deeper into my side
my mind tries to realize
but it is too late
there in the street in shades of ink
a loaded gun
smoking spent shells from deeds done
deep and alone something lies there in a heap
as a sky grows cold under
the rise of crystal dawn, a coming sun
as dark thunderheads loom
then it begins is to sleet
A bitter icy rain
under a tyrannical eye
of a dying silver silence
sliding sideways to horizon
secret crows in covens gather
a murder of my thoughts
That started to fade
my eyes blur blue
images turn
as worms begin to burn
as the piercing dawn grows
The metallic worms bore deeply
deeper into my side, the pain
they are made by no one but one
and that is me and only me alone
watching the shadows run from
a cooling gun
Deeper under a raw rising son
as the clouds tumble away
under the brittle bright cold, risen son
Warmth coming (to none)
clearing skies far above clouds lingering…
Watching my soul drift away!
Copyright © Poet Tellaferro | Year Posted 2022
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