I'll be off now;
lost is better than found--
gone as a jet horse in purple night
impossible to see
my blackness in the dark
as see blotted stars by broken day.
I'll be wearing the mist;
empty is better than full--
an icy locket at my throat
pearled with thorns and carrying a face
I'll never show again
where leaving is better than staying
looking is better than finding--
opening the quicksilver box,
I let the songbird out;
flying is sweeter than singing.
Didn't expect to be posting anything for awhile, but had a dream. Hope everyone has a fulfilling and happy holiday season. I may or not be posting further this month, depending on the muse.
Comments are disabled on this post. Thanks for reading.
Image: Black Magic, by Rene Magritte
All copyright belongs to the copyright holders.