Requiem For The Nameless Ones
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In fevered dreams I sense the heavy scent
Of incense and flowers at the funerals;
Of all the nameless ones who dared defy,
The prescribed paths of routine existence;
All of the mind numbing mortal trappings:
Like feathered Icarus of legend they,
Flew too near to the devouring sun.
In plagued dreams I wrestle with dark angels.
I sense the skeleton beneath the flesh
And the frail beauty behind hardened masks.
I sense the vague poetic traces of
Innumerable scattered souls, as I wander
Aimlessly along the treadmill of life.
In blessed dreams I'm still touched by their presence.
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