Lost Sense
Amidst the doom days...Of her passing...
Mourns rivalry....Against wind scornfulness...
Swept abreast... Fields shedding weep...
No longer could the drums beat loud enough..
To silken ~ The grave face of sudden lost..
Whilst no longer... Did the future shed meaning..
Nor did the present or past ~ Serve sense...
Copyright © John Boyle | Year Posted 2012
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