Realms

Till

A sneaking grievance

You unearth once more

The stoic's solemn creed

I delight to ignore.

Unfold before me

But don't stain this morning

With ashen, dour curtains

O'er my opalesce sea.

Call to me kindly

With sheathed forked tongue

Allow contented silence

'Till glossy eyes grow dumb.

Howling deceptions

Devastate the calm

A drunkard's demand hollers

And hurries me out the door.

Bottles seem treasures

To the gold that they bury

A slow, sullen, sinking,

The perfumed poisons won.

Roads offer relief, reeling

With the world's turning over

Fate resealed

I till the ground anew.