dawn's fingertips can no longer caress me

nor can pleasure tickle my spine-

i lie in the shade of a duplicitous moon

shrouded by achromatic skies.

dawn treads upon my gravestone,

rapping her knuckles on cool granite-

but i shall never wake.

i shall simply shrug her away,

as i pull the earthen quilt to my chin,

roll to one side and shut my world-weary eyes.

copyright 2004

Kage Jonas Coven