Bygone and Begotten

You sauntered back
into this forlorn
with tersely steps
inveigling the phantoms
that wandered the walls
of these stygian isle
And everything leads back
into the narrow sky
where your stoned fist
pierced for amends
and the silver thread
where you staggered once
profusely bled

While the inebriated moon
danced in a field of graves
its umbra zithered
the wary ocean to salute
the midnight toast you raised
beleaguering the asylum
of yesterday's
bygone and begotten,
Caught in the vortex
where you daggers
interpolated and connived

And with all these peril
chiding the shapeless air
a silent figure stood
in the threshold of the moon
and suddenly
there were no reasons -
like a sullen
mortality,
to be afraid

Sloshing through the farce
and the limbo of flustered days
my tongue pivots through
to the gelid taste of the past
whetting the hungry flame
like a saint inside a den
of savageness and ferocity -
A candle steadfast its flame
in the insulated conundrum
and with every escalation
its sublime perspiration
perished and thawed
to clog the sky
where the spigot of regret
flourishes to die

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!