beneath my frame, a moonlit steed
the cantered tales of a shadowed path
unsettled stillness grapples mind
gentlest tear upon foil finds flight
cascading light, ripples pond pale glass
scent of solitude beneath dancing silhouettes
conceptual cadence within my chest
once proud, fallen raven belies my crest
dust flies as ash
consumption ne’er exhausts
thus infinite journey persists without rest
- J.G. Smith (01/09/06)
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