Faded Pictures

On the virgin crescent scythe,

Darkness yields without a fight.

Singing scales

in notes that fail.

I need a hammer-

holding nails..

 Shallow dreaming

  losing steam.

am I breathing..

  catching breath?

As severed Suns burn in West.

The wind scalds sharp,

Then freezes cold-

Attrition between young and old.

Treaties signed in endless battles,

 specious plagues and whispered tattles.

Sweat stained struggles,

Fallow fields;

making peace, not war with me.

In faded pictures

 I reprieve,

my dialogue with hills and trees,

with moody clouds and grumbling seas;

With head unbowed, 

voice raised to  speak,

from broken heart and scrabbled knees

this awkward unrepentant prayer

to foolish dreamers everywhere..



 



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Author: moonmaenad

Unskilled Navigator of this ocean we call life..somebody throw me a lifejacket STAT…or a clever and friendly dolphin

3 thoughts on “Faded Pictures”

    1. Awww…u makin me blush cubbers😳😍😘every now and again words just flood my brain…and tho I still have this ongoing love affair with Getty (up to 107 pics accepted now) words create visions all their own..and yes, I am and shall always be your nomad💋💋💋

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