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SHROUDED LIGHT
Callously torn in fragile shreds,
I sheepishly snuggle in cozy threads.
Succinctly laced, the cactus leans -
Hope nestled amidst it's thorned scenes.
To bittersweet melodies, in trance,
A medley plays, with puppets dance.
Every errand, a gallop in the meadows wide,
Yet petals of mahogany dews reside.
Am I still alive, or lost in posthumous hues?
A sombre ballet, unfolding in view.
Copyright ©
Jeta Buch
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