Of Thau


Break the hand fast,
And return to chaos.
But then, the chaos gods,
Of pagan living,
Are placated, by the excess,
Of one stoned..
One stoning...
              One mindswept,
With a heavy heart, and lonesome vials.
I tiptoe round your smiles.

I see a headlong surge, but
know no answer to the end.
I sigh with misdemeanour,
Knowing beer to spend.

For now, though,
Sacred heart, and
Foundling fawn to
dotage, running on..

The tale of Ryker Moondart,
Soon, to form in song.

                                       jimtom say...