Thoughts, Stories, The Poem
Sweet on the wind flies song and whisper…
Mitchel David Ring
Ink in the deepest veins, coursing and flooding out to the plains…
Vapors rise and swirl between us…
All roads lead to Romanesque dreams…
No trace after they’ve passed through, only echoes…
silent breaths together lie still…
Take flight the conquering hero…
ten thousand lifetimes in a single breath exhaled…
In his right hand a sceptre, in his left a tattered grimoire…
Chandeliers flicker, holding dying flame…
can’t stop tearing can’t stop gnawing…
Clawing at stone, frantic, it crumbles away to dust and behind the wall are theater lights…
A broken branch found life again, grafted to a ray of starlight…
Waves rolling under iron-forged skies, clouds fighting to hold back the sun…
There’s no way through…