Moon slink through gloomy rift
By the mountainous hulk,
Swallowing an old fashion peace
Nimbus of remoteness, dissolve
Mortar of melancholy dream,
Duping thy wanton play
Meekly I submit
Thy last war of epigrams,
Smelling death, as deer smells hunters
Fleeting apparition, whirl
To feed the fear in longest run;
Ditto I fix a bet, as death fixes silence
Moon slink through gloomy rift
Tugging along the rotten flesh,
Swallowing an old fashion peace
No comments:
Post a Comment