shrouded under silence, obscured by smokes
claws seen high with the raven’s cloak
rudiments of survival imprinted on me
hedges do speak
don’t expect for a constant entity.
clamored with scent that refreshes
yet lost in between the twists and turns
end comes close. tragic or comedy?
no time for dawdling, i’ve got to get there somehow
crying is just quite silly.
familiar surroundings, definitely
i’ve nowhere to go
sweetie, you have led me so.
on your nurtured vinery
and that perfect graffiti.
nodding flowers, weeping willows
the faint whisper hear it, listen.
a tragic end.
sadly, that was the sign that was shown