Darkness

I hold a crown floating
in shadow of dark longing
where blood thorns hang
from fetid boughs

I see a figure standing
cowled in rimes of dark
scythe and hourglass held
over bones

I hear a voice chanting
in a room of hallowed stone
parables of warnings
to the void

I speak in strange tongues
to acolytes of yearning
words of reason's fear
for the truth

I walk on cold trackways
beneath a waned moon
In the haunted light
blooms a desert rose

I feel a lantern glowing
in night's fatal gloom
a spark in hopeless hours
before dawn