Route 117

Vacancy signs cast potency in the evening’s luminescent hesitance

to welcome in the turncoats

lives mirroring the Lotus

come one

come all

pack your masses and board the train

‘for when Old Ben strikes twelve

and sun’s progenies sear through

wipe off the miles shall we now

collecting like dust underneath your boots.

Quivering trees shed their skins though the spring has just begun

to bury deep the riddles

haunting melodies of embers

come one

come all

paint your lips with the sweetest of soot

‘for when the sleeper barrels onward

and the snowy owl sighs its tune

cast off our hooks we shall

sinking deep by the light of the moon.

Cold wind’s bittersweet whispers flit like venom off the tongue

to begot the ceaseless fire

effacing maps of childish play

come one

come all

stand in line for your boarding pass

‘for when your number is called

and a tripping foot does board

cut the rending ropes we shall

lugging our right foot from the door.

~ by candyshele1204 on May 24, 2012.