Drawing in the silver gray moonlit horizon
A pinpoint of faded light flickers of centuries
Long past
Heart shackled sore like a maidenhead is sore
A moment mirroring yesteryear
Pressing incarnadine chaotic listlessness
A cathartic blessing
Hours tick through deadened blood pulsing thick
Dripping down the spindly reaching branches
Wretched, bare, alive
Amongst the ashes.