scáth

like icy fingers night comes

its mirage of peace so lights

some darkest sapphire blue

into the spirit bites

embers of the day

things that come before

what will moments hatch

before this phantom’s door

hope will laugh so softly

gypsies grin with glee

shifting fortune sands

where will journeys be

suffer hard this moment

take what you will

weary is the light comes

to burn this shadow’s chill

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s