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.
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