Barren Wilderness

Through the undressed trees, the wind howls
a wild shriek of fury spent, but never quashed
A thin voice wavers, yet still it’s heard…
There’s nothing to be done, for I am lost

A wild shriek of fury spent, but never quashed
despite the vanquished, despite the insurgence
of boldness, the resolve towards supremacy

A thin voice wavers, yet still it’s heard
Above the roar that stains the dark lit sky
A noise in vain, the resonance of defiance

There’s nothing to be done, for I am lost
my will long spent amid the damage
my withered bones to lay forgotten

© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart

Finality and Twilight

In the last rays of swirling light

when the earth kisses the dusk,

will you dance among the graves

and sing a gentle song for Death?

When the earth kisses the dusk

where will your tired footsteps lead?

To a tombstone not yet etched?

Will you dance among the graves,

a ghostly apparition in your arms,

that bitter, closing waltz, macabre?

And sing a gentle song for Death,

laugh bravely as you pass his shadow.

He awaits only the sweet music’s end.

© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart