Blood Bath
I feel the loss tonight
That Glory Absent
That Wordsworth was always mourning
No more, I guess
Than the day I realized
Cruelty
I just feel the loss tonight
In an inner landscape of Void
Not so much the sorrow
As I look up into the night sky
Two Black Pools
Gateways, Reflections Guard
In a red moon and silver dusted leaves
And a sigh,
If Wordsworth were here tonight
I'd envy his sight...his sorrow
And I'd bleed him of his Immortality.
Copyright © Rebekah Richardson | Year Posted 2006
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