Beltphanath

Thirsty Orchids in Black Eve

Beltphanath


Swollen thorns clawing the melancholy night from tired storms 
Dark shadows embrace the whisper for the ashes 
in the arts of desire lost in the silence of her 
mourning 

How many lustrum can contemplate the path of 
sorrow 
the cold wind crawl the thick mist of crisp yarn 
and her woe at the pallium of the night snatch 
the dim poems dispersed as Hinnom's delirium 
the dying pain of arid eyes wrap the dainty promise 
caven in the crestfalien tono of autumnal foliage. 

¡Oh! Asperous taciturn wind disseminated into the ignorant drawsiness of the lividness withered. 

The vividness of delicate umbelliferae scalter 
the bitter gospel on ebony cup for the grief meadows. 

Thirsty orchids drinking the fertility of the seed 
and the oath at the cypress drapes the spirit 
of fruit bud to mirtle and the seed shall be the 
groan grieved like the pestum's roses in the dark 
yearning.