The Somber
Coneflowers webbed, not grazed four seasons. Joints shattered, crawling, creaking. Beneath dirt, the yearning seeps in with Critters gathered, gnawing, feasting. Feel the dew, refresh your face. War's been over, blood has dried, Bones are all around this place. Lay your head, eyes up, sweet soul. Leave gods out of this, You yourself coveted it and You've got nowhere else to go.







