The Boneyard…Waxing Poetic

The Boneyard

With a great gnashing of teeth

And gnawing of bones

A great many fall prey

To obscurity.

Splintering, shattering,

Sucking the marrow

from tired dreams

and uninspired futures.

 There is no sustenance

 in the dry and dusty  past,

It is but a marker,

A road sign

Go forward or go back

And reside in spires of pale grey

A pipe organ that plays

To the sound of the wind.

Rhavensfyre

12/29/2013

 www.rhavensfyre.com

http://www.amazon.com/Switching-Gears-Rhavensfyre-ebook/dp/B00GZ0BY04%3FSubscriptionId%3DAKIAJBDF5XQBATGDX4VQ%26tag%3Dspea06-20%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165953%26creativeASIN%3DB00GZ0BY04

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