Sunday, July 24, 2011

Late Night - An Experimental Poem

No dreams this night:
The silver portent - cold, bright
Hides behind her curtain
-Sophia-
Looks down
Sees my lit window
and searches somewhere else
for another soul
to give her dreams to.

No dreams tonight:
The moral question - wrong, right
Echos around the chamber
-Raphael-
Bends down
Fingers his gold trumpet
but considers another time
for another soul
to give his message to.

The earth is uprooted
And the cauldron is empty.