Scattered Shapes
A shadowed echo of the moors
Was crying out for me
Wanting what it couldn't taste
For whom I shouldn't be
But scattering the best of us
Were fleeting shores of time
And so I stole a sudden breath
Entombed by ancient rhyme
Defiance led away from me
As spoors on broken trails
And so I tracked it aimlessly
Ignoring all details
And wound up in obscurity
Where vagueness had escaped
Through tunnels of dexterity
Hell-bent but never shaped.
