A Tattered Page Of Apocalypse

Night is not mine alone to remember lovely yet enlightened earth Yet stars and moon pique up to peek beyond Quiet flow of river rattling to disown. All when look wild in its wilderness yet saddest is the songs of sorrow by moon less night in midst of lonesome silence eyes ruffles by scarecrow on corn field awaits to break open wind blows torridly over sill of curve i stand and stare into vacuum of light stuck in colorless cavern crosses my window sill fear seems to tickle me to lie low into island of dream lest slumber impulses into another hollered call from shore other side of silhouette resting beneath dim shadow of desolate street entices to like apocalypse staggering to annihilate love of universe as nightmare evince to elope with half veiled song of joy leaving behind the burnout ashes to cover clouds of oblivion into obscurity untenable like a pampered child infested of wild and weird drug tending to batter sweet home of heaven