Ember

Max Meunier

love looms amid the earthen shrine
in contrast with truth
pressing onto parchment
muted musings left lingering
for glancing eyes that gaze in contempt
aghast at the ongoing display of decadent debauchery
never have they known such indiscretion
yet none can speak for what is known

the radiance, disarming
its cadence grows stronger
echoing into the abyss of anguish
from one, to other
bearing no consequence of relevant toll
rolling like a snow bound stone
enjoyed by the sun

all of these ancestral affectations
airs of artifice agonizing over every breath
spilled out onto the landscape like leaves
leading to disarray, in lost portrayal

sweet strands of vermilion lick like flames
framing such fragile alabaster allure
alone and aloft
soft tones of humility
exuding from hearth
set upon this heart
rekindled by kindred coalescence
windswept into one regret
and set to the serenity of solitude’s song

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Author: Max Meunier

Feminist. Ailurophile. Musician. Poet. Human.

1 thought on “Ember”

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