Poem – “Life’s Little Dream” – Romanticism – 1/15/2021

When writing words
In such demise,
I notice the sadness
In their crying eyes.

Faces even by the moment
Of sacred, heavenly departure
Of the adorned
In their great web of secrets,
Fashioned over by attire
Black upon the bleakest hearts.

Someone will notice
The sadness, I give away,
On my own,

Using tears for the ink
In the great decoration of words
Over blankness, for the immaculate.

For Winter has no gate to Heaven,
As Summer has no path to Hell,

Upon the dead,
With the cheers
Of children, losing their space
To crawl towards that which is gifting.

I am in my own sunrise,
While the moon has descended,
As all to notice
Is this dream, covered in ash.

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