From The Pyre

fuelled passivity

binds the broken dreams,

despoiled wonderland

screened with silent screams.

shifting visions,

inviolate by turns

corrupted carcasses

pyrotechnic burns.

into the west they sail,

fey folk flock like fauns,

unseeing eyes

perceive departing forms.

pink horizon beckons

from pallid fetid flesh,

embark with dreamers to

new soul journey quest.

emblazoned pendant flies

at mast of glory height,

depicting hope at last

from earthbound endless fight.

work the firecrackers,

dazzle with display,

circus pomp or pride,

illusions of the day.

slumbered eyes may view,

through sulphur’s smoky plumes,

radiant new dawn

in ship’s departing spume.

where the fey folk fled,

in dreamers’ rested lands,

there all dreams abide

for restless, yearning hands.

catch the dreamers’ form,

weave the golden net,

where the magic lives

we dwell in unforget.