Days of Petals, Days of Thorns


Days of petals
days of thorns
Yesterday echoes and whispers
in the vast voids that fall between
Paths of broken glass and jagged thoughts
The raven calls from the primordial moonless night

My pen is bleeding again
I cannot stem the flow
The pain, exquisite, imbues my words
with unspoken secrets and unsung songs
once buried in the long cold ashes
in the darkest corners of my broken heart

My melancholy fills the emptiness
and the silken strands of absence
shift and settle in the shapeless silence
Sorrow is a sea without a shore
suspended in time and veiled in mists
that circle me endlessly

The haunting wind is whispering
as it brushes against my skin
And I find myself weeping
as the bell begins to toll
My ink is flowing away like an ebbing tide
I can only love you now from afar
embers of hope, forever suspended in time

The raven calls from the primordial moonless night
The distance between us is slowly unfurling
in the vast voids that fall between
Yesterday echoes and whispers
Days of petals
days of thorns

© Ann Bagnall

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