Thursday, December 15, 2011


Fortunate soul growing neither
In night shade nor quite enough to
Allow no rhyme
Reason on behalf of
His shame,
His holy hand in fear.
Understand, this isn’t unique
To certain departed wilderness
Lives to certain
Elements of heart ache
Disdain; this is fortunate enough
To emphasize exactly how
Much a very small deadly
Dream could go on rummaging
The troubles of a compassion
That didn’t know how
To end.
On a bridge throughout a sandy
Marsh across a lake of mortal
Sins he swung along a
Curse nobody disappoints
A garden of
Diminishment and
Heightened unconvincing
Lies, in height
And in splendor does the
Beauty of her heart
Dwell, fortunate enough to
Lash one more time his admiring
Vesper resolutions his interest
Accruing flight across the

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