I touch the moments
few and fleeting
as my heart
drips out its beating
and there they grasp
my deepest pause
past the dark
and all its claws
And speak to idle
yet not random impressions
in long and wondrous
unearthly sessions
As I drift
on the edge of sleep
these lonely waves
are mine alone to keep
(September 2nd, 2017)
YOU ARE READING
Post Modern Mystic
PoetryPoetry fills a need of the human heart to express through the construction of artistic verse, the things that hide in its depths. This book of poetry is my attempt to reach those places and beyond. See if I do. Let me know if I reach you. This will...
