flowers,
hand picked and sewn,
breathed less once more, for hours
they sit alone, silent tears stains
grave blooms.


her song Each morn my ears strainher song by ~ekg
to hear the last songbird sing
outside these frosted window panes
'tis merely the first cry
of this winter's wind.


The Sycophant's Prayer i come to thee, O glorious Lord,The Sycophant's Prayer by ~ekg
palms turned t'ward the deepening sky
thine heart sore impure
for Your Grace that i forsake
a runagate shunned
from the comforts of Your heeding eyes
i come to thee, O Lord,
palms stained of Your mistakes...
Onto these knees scarred I fall afore
the glory both You and I longingly seek
within the depths of my eternal soul
I have dissembled faith and fable true
the runagate scorned desperate
in the cleansing barrens held at Your feet
cast me again in these teeth bared and clenched
from upon your golden perch-
that I shall forever eschew.
| Not exactly new. |