Eleventh Hour

Will you answer,

When the voices cease?

Will you walk forward,

To where the crickets sleep?

And will you sigh,

When the sun sinks down?

Or catch that brief glimpse,

Of the fabled wedding hound?

For tonight is the age,

Where fine fiddles march.

To say goodbyes,

Before the tongue doth parch.

Or maybe, just maybe,

The hero will drop in guise?

To claim my last petal,

Before it wilts, withers and dies.

~m

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2 comments

  1. Captain Q · 27 Days Ago

    I really liked this one!

    Liked by 1 person

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