Wednesday, April 17, 2013

For the Block house on Mount Umanhum

The last drape of beauty
entombed atop the hill
stares down on learning
calling forth us the ill.

Sleep Chernobog
Some sup upon thy dreams.
I need another world
not as certain as this seem.

Pipe upon the dawn
For them of tempers same
lost or forgotten seekers
Calling out in their pain

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