A
zephyr’s kiss, of gusts and gales,
slowly
strips the suffocation
from
a mid-march air
A
cloistered cache, evinced
of
polarizing vespers—found strung,
tied
within a vanguards gate
Harbingers
of a typecast trichotomy,
bred
to enunciate meaning behind the
grammars,
masticating upon wisdom eschewed
Angels
laced in iron-wrought
spiral
indecision, sidling tween
walls,
vaults and seam
The
cost an artist pays
endowing
life unto each
his
renderings
Lucid
posterns—unhinged
by
premeditative discrepancy—
release
the encrusted panes
Onyx
painted Oriels—jut in cantilever
supporting
cornice and balcony
amassing
all which jalousie would not let glow
II.
Where
ravens spite elocution’s cause
smiting
foundations teem in gaze, as
vociferates
travail miasma’s stygian haze
Of
beleaguered artisans—indentured
and
accosted by, philosophies buried deep,
within
the fissures of an unripe mind
Burnt
by reactions—forepassed, bygone—
already
in the apertures, ever-afflicted
by
assiduous decline
Emotive
assailants inaudibly defined,
by
repeals bound asunder to both
infinite
space and burrowed time
While
piercing deep the flesh, simply to feel something,
newborn
talons scar
what
attrition’s left to be tamed—
And
as the chasm sprawls, its untenable vortex
spreads
wide and vast—until ouroboros forms first gasp;
a beacon, indicating that soon, the future
will become the past
