Fog

A landscape poem i wrote earlier this year.

The Desolating fragrance

Of the sycophant fallacy,

The diseased weather.

 

Plagued to wander aimlessly for eternity.

 

Castles built in the wind,

where the land and sky bleed, intertwined

 

Disregarding the horizon.

 

Dead and gone casting shadows on a timeless canvas.

 

The trees twist and manipulate the space between air,

 

Like ivy stretching against a tall, white wall.

 

An ancient art of silhouettes natural and bleak.

 

The potent grey, clambers, hovering about the soil,

Causing cataracts to cloak the burning star,

 

A Gazebo casting shadows on an unnatural

 

Landscapes.

Reviews

[Eliza Mae]

This is a very enjoyable poem. My favorite line has to be "An ancient art of silhouettes natural and bleak"! You have quite the way with words, Bravo Seamus :)