Eloquent hosts.
Vital elegance, raise the ghost.
The foray of the sun.
blighted fallen hope rerun.
the solstice of the divine.
broken is the idle mind.
To the remembrance of glory,old.
summers behest Dreams of bold.
salutation to a never coming expectation.
And betrayal of close relation.
wonder reels about fated moon.
As the lonely men are given to swoon.
the tawdry will, unfulfilled.
Its not the only end to be willed.
Traipses of divinity, man doeth scorn.
The single to mourn alone to be born.
yet with the Father and the Son and Spirit won.
Yet by the world is canceled to be flung.
Only left to be considered mung.
A heart of gold reckoned dung.
Or so it seems.
Like flecks of dust in golden sun beams.
And I CANNOT fulfill my dreams.
until I'm carried home by the angle wings.
one with even a piece of divinity, is by this world brought to nothing.
but I am but dust and ashes, of a former something.
but clay before the Lord about the wing.
©redic
R