Posted: June 5, 2015 in Poetry
Tags: , , ,

In no time, but none
I shall be not, but of memories remain
Mine ears shall not of defiance shun
For their connivance with the Archer shall gain
The lights’ enmity on my brow shall borne
When my cold feets of speechless voice calls
And my bloodstreams; of shyness freeze
Mine Foes’ mockery yearns of naught
That Friends’ pity springs to save naught
Mine mindless mind would melt
That mine, my thoughtless thoughts on their crest
Struggle whilst they make but of sterile breathe
In no time, but none
Far away, my steps shall be, far gone
I shall be sought, but nay, far and far away!
Then, mine, the lifeless log, shall whisper “Good Night”.

© – 2015 – AdamsMurphy®


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