Is this my near unburdening?
A solitary bloom upon my stage,
The works of God are peaceful at this hour,
Or rather always but I just now see.
The many palettes of the sky and my
Carnation stark as blood has wept it's wounds.

Pink petals mourn the flowing fount,
Leave hollowed husk to fill again,
With sacred velvet born from life,
To death with wit's false hope it bleeds the same,
Rose carnations bloom.

Tell me, tell me of this grand success?
Who beholds it? From where does it descend?
Does it come in muted drips or furious sound?
Does it stay, and is it ever found?

Did you hold it from me so I would see?
This broken hope laid bare within my heart,
My hidden strongman's strength I came to love,
Has fled me so I weep.

Because my strength is spent and naught,
Because I hoist myself upon so frail a mount,
Because I didn't see the filthy hope I took,
In these frail wings you gave.

I weep because I wanted you,
And settled for a smaller thing,
Veiled from my eyes I stole,
A glance at this weak mortal frame.

See the sunny tide,
A rolling ripple endless to the sky,
A blue-cast dancer in the spotlight of the day,
The pebbles fold into their multitudes on the shore,
They huddle too in silent waves.

Clocked off,
Sun's taking a nap,
Food's squished senseless,
Feet trodden flat-

-Lining air socks,
Just vapourous, silly,
Not really there like our imaginary friend Billy,
And my thoughts roam free on the page,
Someone call the sleepy-boy-sage,
He's got some tired rhymes,
When it's sleep times...
Zzzzzzzzzz.