Lonely Walk
Cold grey dawn, mist overcoat
comforting as damp muslin gauze
shrouding the eyes of the detached and departed.
Decrepit footpath, cracked and neglected
as the mothers graves across the field
backs cracked by careless footfalls no doubt.
My own gone these many years now
the Belfast cemetery not far from here
her stone unfound after searching.
Somber Irish mist, where legends and relatives mingle
sometimes seen, but always there,
waiting.
The Veil
On damp decrepit pathways hobbling Life, soul, and world, awash of grayscale Dark wings in shadows sing By design the spirit to impale An artist's palette of black and white Bright hues in daylight pale Adrift in oceans of ravens night Accursed walk beyond the veil (c)Stoic Poetry/Stephen Allen WolfPack Contributor Bio: Stephen Allen
Seeped in the sadness of the lonely.
LikeLike
Wonderful glimpse from the mist. I loved these poems.
LikeLike