journey shades, winter

©2022 Michael Raven

it might be
time time time
(what has become of--)
to let sleeping
dogs die
wrap myself in
woolen ennui
close tired eyes
and embrace
disconnected dystopic
dysthymia dragging
stones behind
my spirit

suspicious eyes
cut to death with a
thousand knives
in grey nights
an afterglow of
city lights polluting
my black skies

i wraith over
myrk rivers
a ghoul painted
in clownface lies

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