This week, I was feeling poetic so you have some dark, moody musings… Enjoy.
A hint of rot in the breeze, an aroma made to please.
Yes, ‘tis autumn that I see and it fills me with such glee. The fallen leaves spreading their decay, and the maggots have come out to play. That shiver in the air, a joie de vivre so rare. But I’ll wait and bide my time, sit in shadow and in rhyme.
For Halloween, it creeps hither, the night I come out and slither. Oh, those pumpkins growing in the patch, the little children primed to snatch. I stalk along the night, and be warned, I am a fright.
On the Shore
Atop the rocky cliff, the lighthouse stands, a beacon across the waves. Luminance cast over the beach and water, over death from the dark, dark deep. Tower of light and hope, the last bastion against the night.
The old man waits and keeps his watch, ever vigilant in his duty. He has never faltered, never failed to shine that beam from shore. Even now, in the ruin of what was, in the crumbled stone and charred ash, he lingers to fire the lamp.
Even thirty years after the flames, after he and the lighthouse burned, he still does his duty.
Serenity sings past desolation, in the twilight hours before the moon. The silent hush, the echo of the empty, the lonely heart beyond breaking. Yet, hear the music in the wind, the gentle, salt-scented zephyr whispering through the trees.
Does it call your name in the fading light?
Do you dance with the forming shadows to ease your pain?
Serenity waits past isolation, in the last illumination of the day before the darkness, in the quiet reverberation of the world.
Will you answer the call of the fading light?
Will you dance with your chasing shadows and ease your pain?