Things Left Unsaid

Nights are but sermons
To be streamed
In this requiem
To a dream, with stars
Drawn from wondrous dust
On shadows of the moon
As past, present
And future ferment
Like grapes
“In the twilight
Of perpetual noon”

& kismet called upon
By the revenant vox
Of wordshippers to come

Through The static
And the hum, out from
Under the umbra
Into sight, communing
With kindred souls
In search of the other
Side speaking truth
To light, because things
Once left unsaid
Are in a stage
Of dormancy, not dead.

©2018 MDSHall

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