José Diogo Andrade
“Dust takes over where ash might lie
And embers, unborn, whisper goodbye.”
Colourless seem the leaves that fall
On the lake that reflects the moon alone,
‘Neath which shrouded worlds, wordless, call
And silver reigns on its silent throne.
The tales of the passing Time sure flees,
By Dark’s guardian not left unseen,
Come as they go, uncov’ring keys
To what came not but could have been.
Shunned from light and turned to mere dreams
Dust takes over where ash might lie
And embers, unborn, whisper goodbye.
For where the sliver of shadow gleams
Night grows longer and puts stars to rest,
Resuming their ever restless quest.