Writ of Thorn and Petal

i feel my age of writing
is coming to an end.
summoning visions,
night after night,
only exhausts;
only drains.
were it so easy
to only draw upon
the joy
i once felt.
bringing you out
from within the tumblers of mind
only hastens the descent
of the scythe.
i implore you;

it is not enough
to bury the shadow.
only when basked
in glorious light
will it end
with you.

and i will do my best
to make sure
it ends
with me.


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