Dragging grudge-fossil boned,
Battleship-anchor, chain-jointed carcass
In hopeless pursuit of sleep’s
Elusive dryad dancers;
Through the glades, along the rides
Of silent, silver-filtered, star-starved
Low Moon Forestlands.
Aching, desperate and needy
Stumbling, heavy-hearted, heavy-eyed;
Robbed of breath and energy,
Chasing mocking shadows-in-shadow.
I mean only to join, befriend,
Embrace the gentle faerie waltzers
Who skitter away, giggling at my plight,
Leaving only teasing waymark arrows that
Point to the trip-root, winding ways that
Lead to Fool-Takes-All, here-too-soon
Exhaustion’s Dawn.
…
Morning everyone …
16/8/13
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