On the Ebb of Dreams Born Dormant

wrapped up neatly 

in layered appeasement

spilling forth tides of contrivance

so willing to forsake

the wakened hands 

that trace our face upon us

fates effaced 

through feigned inference

of thought infernal

in fertile fields of fallow fame

refrained now is her candor

as stained glass wrought of leaden web

on the ebb of dreams born dormant

taken at a facet gleaned

of tacit impel

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Being dormant and forgotten. A lonely place to be.
"on the ebb of dreams born dormant
taken at a facet gleaned
of tacit impel"
The above lines. Powerful and direct. Thank you Max for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote