On Sky Drive
For seven days he wandered as a ghost,
where souls of other dimensions lived;
times forgot his falsities that heaved,
in dark nimbus an' a mist covered coast.
He walked on sand for many miles when
strongholds appeared hazy in distance,
it was a cry of a wolf to sown instance,
and two scholastic birds to croak again.
The roses died! The colors dyed in rain;
No one interrupted the silent grayness,
therefore dusk crouched into plainness,
outcast lives of begotten seeds in vain.
So, there Death came to embrace nice,
forsooth freed cold as for twenty five
odd days the brave slept on sky drive,
ulterior left his winter prayers on ice.
Wounded chords of time harp in union,
a stalwart's solitude's upon the waves;
he visioned a pasture in his mind caves,
in the narrow cell, he drunk communion.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Added by Poetry Lover
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