By the Harvesters.

Of course, it’s got to be

Better not to dwell on it;

But we’re all going

To lose it one day.

He shouldn’t know it,

This head-down young charger,

Won’t know it until it ambushes him,

But his day is today.

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Cinders

A fall too far,
Too far … and
Far too fast
From a wall
Too Heaven-high tall:
From butterfly belle brilliance
To double-dull
Dust.

It’s rocket-rate race
From rock to ruin;
Too quick,
Too Devil-drive quick,
From pistol-shot
To tape:
From innocence
To grief.

Sudden-slap
Midnight-shock realisation;
Slipper slip
Staircase sprint
Takes little time,
Maybe none,
But it’s all
The time you had.
Before returning
To cold ashes
Once more.

30/12/2012