Dead Chicory
We toil for love, ignore ourselves
Dancing weed and life in the cracks
Lent for mercy
Clutching time, like cold ribbons of my past
Chaotic as the foam churning the sea
Unruly masters of rotting rituals
Melancholy smiles from the abyss
Hope of man and death by proxy
We've lit your candle and drank your words
Hanging juniper, dewdrops at twilight
Destiny looms, a backward glance
Like rivers - to the sea
Tim Wallace