On tattered pages

I am fed to the flourishing past

Blended red by its whirlwinds

Thrown to the abyss

~

These weathered oaths

Will sing out from their lonely pyres

In the bitter heart of winter

When the silver sun has sunken  

~

Howling from their dark graves

Among a glowing flight of embers

They’ll lift a deathless refrain

For their silenced tyrant

~

I’ll lie stranded and spare

In a sprawling unknown

Swept up in each gale

Stirred alive by kin