(no subject)

[apiphile]

cyprus path

down
the darkened avenue
hooded leaning trees
guard the night
in naval hues
and through
the oppressive blues
where even stars
are shy of shining
he screams
a path of fire
my golden boy
burning
the moths from
this final night
drawing me in
as helpless as them
he never slows
i cannot keep pace
and the ink streak shadows
grow deeper
after he fades.