Today, I welcome you all back to that luminous cavern where words go floating about.
This one is called Violet Husk. A new piece by myself for all of you here, on His Empty Space. Enjoy.
VIOLET HUSK
The antler moon rides our husk of noon;
The antler moon rides our way as light exudes.
☾
Cradling the violet chirp
Beneath a wilting valley
Crunched by time too soon.
☽
Fallen emerald slump on crimson slopes
The glistening wood like loosened hair
Amongst this night of wet-lashed air
☾
The heather holes with crawling swallows
Suckle deep the relish from the colonies that live in ochre halls
☽
And all the while the subliminal societies
forage the floors amongst the nesting
end of lords no more.
☾
Before it all a chord of grey
to which no hands can graze or play;
Where all gills are squelched and limbs torn to flame.
☽
The pressing distance blurred with lifeless leaves,
all caught in the might of this pneumatic disease.
☾
Along the shores a fleet array, lined with brine and sharp decay
☽
The antler moon rides our husk of noon;
The antler moon rides our way as night protrudes.
☾
So there we sail the stark penumbra
And wait on stars for our mothers.
╰☆╮
Thanks, as always!
Remember to check out my website: hisemptyspace.wix.com/hisemptyspace
And my art page: https://www.facebook.com/tomansellvisualartist
Peace,
Tom.
His Empty Space 