Illo Friday: Roots

threshold

step into the unyielding world
the starting point
the first void
as your ceptar lights
the route gone dark
the pastel of pitch-black

a doorway to a new dimension
slip into oblivion or discreet pleasure
as you ponder -
would you enter,
or would you turn back?

tantalized by your marveled stare
i stood a distance
glancing your shadow navigate
as your steps turn into echoes
that slowly died away

half burried
on a plot of stones and leaves
without dismay without fear,
i waited and remained
for your shadow to reappear

im on the verge of passin out
no cure for these ragged lips
and sightless eyes.
the root of it all -
the envy of the deities
of your brilliance that had shed
out the gloom and tainted

my poor vision in near darkness
captured me once again
as i move unsteadily
holding unto sorrow that sees
no discernment
nor untarnished questions

that i may step away into the shade,
my dear tempest
  my nympth
i'll wait for you...

damned me cursed to forever be haunting
beneath the dark-leaved unknown tree.




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note: this is my week's entry for
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