Illusion of darkness… a poem

DISSIPATION

As the leeward hillside darkens

A canvas of lightless entrapment broadens its grip

Weary be to those who trespass upon this entrenchment

As too they will become prey to their own folly

Heather sways gently in a Siren’s song of the night calling

Bewitched in austere wonder

Fall not to the dancing chorus blades of green

Spell-cast the intruder calls to collect his coin

A vintage rare is what he seeks

Is this the finale of a life lived in overt delusion

Stars look upon the scene without blinking

Struck by the awkward beauty in transfixed hypnosis

Whoa be the wicked found here tonight

Rivers of sadness will surely spill their banks

Rivulets seek solace

Yet here there is none to be found

Earthly creatures burrow deeper to avoid the conflict

Reverberations reach down as if to call and torment

Fog billows in as a blanket of concealment

Never meant for the living eye

The task at hand is won

He snares his quarry

And, with a faceless smirk he retreats with the prize

Author: What Words May Come

Hopeless romantic; joker; father and grandfather; husband; sportsman; part-time writer;

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