Mute
mood hits
darken cloths of nous
a thousand needles
pierced
a permeance of destruction
grifting a mindless soul
dagger dragged upon dagger
gifted for glory of death
dearth
a destiny to destroy
semblance of life
be silent
thoughts
churning
fear is without chance
wait and let the winds whisper
and cloud cover cease
and push to the east
it will be then
only then
this dark will come to rest
Copyright © Ts Poetry | Year Posted 2020
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